#There's a lot of stuff I look at and get feelings about

[whorelaud]

꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 untouchable ¡

pairing experienced¡roommate¡rafe cameron x innocent¡reader

sunmary rafe guides you through your first masturbation after you told him you've never touched yourself before, his offer tempting you in ways you've never experienced before. your curiosity grows as well as your desire, leading to an intimate moment that changed things between you two.

contains smut! first time masturbating, guided orgasm, fingering, lots and lots of kissing, dirty talk, nipple play, needy reader, player rafe, hes a tease!! he also interrupts reader, uhh thats ab it (i think). wc; 4.2k

a/n hi !! this took two days to write and at least 1-2 months to get out of my notes blaahhh hope you enjoy!!!!

“Have you ever had someone go down on you?” 

You choked out a snort of disblief, taken aback by the question. Rafe, who was seated inches away from you, chuckled, turning his head in your direction, causing the smile on your face to instantly vanish. 

He wasn’t joking. 

You cleared your throat, feeling heat crawl past your neck, until it eventually settled on your face. You’ve had your fair share of embrassing moments with your roommate, but this? You wanted the ground to split and swallow you whole, too ashamed to respond. 

Truth be told, you’ve never involved yourself in any sexual activities, let alone had someone go down on you. Hell, you’ve barely ever touched yourself before, brushing off your random bursts of arousal whenever you were sexually frustrated

So, the question here was, how were you supposed to tell him that? Reveal that you were a virgin at heart, and that you’ve never had someone touch you intimatly; not that you’ve done it. 

You were painfully aware of how experienced Rafe was, with the latter informing you all about his hookups; and that was besides the amount of girls he brought over. The walls were thin enough to give everything out, their loud moans and whimpers echoing through your ears. In conclusion, you didn’t need him to break down what he was up to. 

“Not that I remember.” You muttered, brushing off the question. 

“What?” He cocked his head to the side, snatching the spoonful of ice cream from your hold. “Who doesn’t remember getting eaten out?” 

“People are busy, Rafe.” You scoffed, licking the drop of ice cream off your thumb. “Not everyone has the time to fuck around.”

“You’re not busy,” he muffled out, tossing the spoon back in the tube of ice cream on your lap. “You don’t go out, all you do is lay around the whole day, then proceed to complain over the fact that you did nothing all day.”

You rolled your eyes, faking an annoyed expression at his words. Rafe adjusted his position, manspreading on the sofa, until his knee was hovering over yours, the contact ceasing the distance between you. 

“I mean, come one…” he trailed off, tone slightly teasing. “I’ve never seen you bring anyone over, are you really not interested in any of that stuff?” 

“How about you mind your business?” You huffed, feeling your ears burn with heat. “Why do you wanna know so bad?” 

“What?!” He defensively shot back, “I’m jus’ curious, besides, you never tell me anything, it’s always me talking.” 

“It’s ‘cause there’s nothing to tell you,” you mumbled under your breath, avoiding Rafe’s gaze. “There, you happy?”

Silence seeped through the air, atmosphere heavy with tension. Rafe‘s lips parted with disbelief, speechles by your blunt response. That was… new, you never brought up your sexual life to the latter before, so to think you were admitting to being a virgin over a silly argument struck Rafe to his core. 

"You're not like, serious or anything, right?” He attempted to laugh it off, smile fading when your expression remained the same. “Shit, you’re being serious.”

Your gaze settled on your hands in your lap, too embarrassed to glance over at Rafe, whose eyes burned holes through your flesh. You could envision the look of disbelief on his face, not having to look to know that he was shocked. 

“Why are you surprised?” You giggled, brushing off the heavy tension seeping through. “You said it yourself, i’ve never really brought anyone over.” 

“I was messing,” he swiftly replied, “I didn’t think you were you know… a virgin.”

“Okay, if you word it like that…” You tilted your head to the side, a tight-lipped smile spreading across your lips. 

“Have you never like, engaged in anything?” Rafe muttered, trying to play off the question as something casual, though you knew it wasn’t. “You know, never gave a guy a blowjob before?” 

Nothing about your roommate asking if you’ve given a guy a blowjob was casual. 

“No.” You shook your head, a snort escaping your throat. 

“You’ve kissed someone before though, right?” He asked, voice lowering with hesitation. 

“I’ve kissed someone before.” You exclaimed, leaning your head back on the sofa. “You already knew about that.” 

“You did tell me,” he nodded his head, “Have you never like…”

“What is it now, Rafe?” You question, teasing hinted through your tone. “Why are you investigating me?”

“‘M not; jus’ curious.” He muffled out, voice barely above a whisper. “Have you never pleased yourself?”

“What?” You ask, coming to a halt. 

The question filled with temptation, something you both chose to avoid for the sake of your friendship. Rafe always playfully flirts with you, using every chance he could to tease you. Those usually end in you brushing it off, not thinking too much of it. 

However, this was personal. He was asking questions that shall be private, not for him to hear, nor know about.  

“Have you never touched yourself before?” He elaborated, gaze flickering to your lap. “You’ve touched yourself, right?” 

You remained silent, blinking far too many times for your liking. You fidgeted with the rings hugging your fingers, busying yourself with the movie displayed on the tv, now long forgotten with the ongoing conversation. 

“Fuck.” Rafe muttered under his breath, throat going dry. “That’s so…” 

“Embrassing,” you cut him off, playing off your embarrassment. “I know.” 

“It’s hot; somehow turns me on,” he corrected, continuing his statement. “Knowing you’ve never touched yourself before.” 

Your head shifted in his direction, a flustered expression spreading across your face as you felt heat settle on your cheeks. You swallowed around your throat, mouth gaping to speak, met with utter silence in return. 

Shivers ran down your spine, the sensation like feathers on your skin. Rafe’s blank expression made things worse, displaying how serious he was being. He wasn’t fucking around, even with how swift the conversation took a turn. 

“Shut up,” you mumbled, clearing your throat. “Quit messin’ around.” 

“Did that get you?” Rafe choked out a giggle, easing the tension between you. 

“That wasn’t funny!” You huffed, lightly shoving his shoulder. “Don’t joke around like that.”

“I mean,” he said, teasingly fidgeting with his tongue. “It wasn’t a joke, but–”

“Rafe!” Your face heat up, flustered expression spreading across your face. 

“Sorry!” He chuckled, drifting off for a moment. His gaze trailed down your body, a sly smirk finding his lips once again. “You need help? I’ll guide you through it.” 

You paused, considering his suggestion for a moment, even if he meant it as a joke. Your lips quivered into a thin line, feeling your throat dry up when his hand found your bare thigh, action teasing, tempting you in ways that were forbidden. 

And before you got time to process the gesture, he grabbed the ice cream tube from your lap, instantly scooping a bite with the spoon inside. It took you a moment to catch on with what he did, attempting (and failing) to snatch it back from his hold. 

“Hey, that’s mine.” You muttered, gaze shifting up to Rafe when he stood to his feet. 

“What’s mind is yours, remember?” He winked, walking backwards to maintain eye contact with you. “We both pay the bills around here.” 

“I paid for that, though.” You argued, mimicking the latter’s action as you followed in his steps. 

“From whose wallet?” He reasoned, causing you to go quiet. 

Right, you did steal ten bucks to buy that from him; though the boy didn’t mind. 

Your shoulder relaxed, defeated by the boy’s response as you watched him enter his room, letting the door shut behind him. 

That was that.

Later that night, you found yourself slipping under your convers, tempted by Rafe’s words from earlier. Your hands traced down your body, halting around the sliver of skin in between your shirt and shorts. 

Your fingers toyed with the waistband of your shorts, teeth digging through your bottom lip as your hand tumbled beneath the thin cloth, the sensation of your cold fingers brushing over your heat sending shivers throughout your body. 

Your digits lightly traced over your heat, sliding down your folds, inaudible gasp escaping your throat when you noticed how wet you’ve gotten from earlier. Rafe’s words echoed through your ears as your eyes fell shut, imagining him guiding you through your masturbation with his words, the thought spiraling pleasure through your body.

You collected your juices with your fingers, gasping as you traced them back to your clit, the sensation overwhelming you whole. You started off with slow rubs to your cunt, letting your pleasure build up within every touch you committed to. 

You imagined Rafe’s hand instead of yours, rubbing your clit while he whispered praises to your ears. The thought washed guilt over you, aware you were going to regret your pathetic thoughts once the pleasure wears off. 

Imagining your roommate going down on you was your last predicament tonight, yet, here you were, touching yourself while pretending it was Rafe, his words never leaving your mind. You would’ve been down for whatever, the least he could’ve done was push through with his teasing, and you would’ve gladly accepted it. 

But he didn’t, and that made you want him even more. The idea of not being able to have him, not even for a moment, because it was forbidden. You were well aware of that, barely holding back before, whether Rafe stood too close, or said something tempting. 

“Hey, uh, have you seen my green–” Rafe burst through the door, freezing in his tracks once he noticed the state you were in. “Sweatshirt?” 

The covers weren’t much of help, as Rafe instantly realized what you were doing. He gulped, feeling himself twitch in his pants, as his fingers clutched around the doorknob. You immediately jumped out of your position once you spotted him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

Your eyes trailed down to his torso, feeling heat crawl to your face when you noticed his bare chest, out on display. Right, that was a norm, you should’ve been used to it by now.

“What the fuck, dude?” You shot back, heavy breaths escaping your throat. “Can’t you knock?”

“Hmm?” He hummed, too hazed up to process what you were saying. “Right, sorry, I– I should’ve knocked.”

You felt so exposed under his gaze, tugging your bottom lip with guilt as you caught sight of his face. Maybe that was meant to happen, a sign that you shouldn’t have crossed the invisble line you created, pleasing yourself over the thought of your best friend. 

“What do you need?” You muffled out, gulping when his eyes flickered down to your lips. 

“Well, I was jus’ asking if you’ve seen my sweatshirt, but…” He trailed off, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “You seem busy.” 

“I was sleeping.” You replied, though the excuse was not much help. “You– you interrupted.”

“Clearly,” He cocked his head to the side, seeking your gaze with his own, a desperate exhale escaping his parted lips when your eyes wouldn’t meet his. “I’ll leave you to it, then…”

He trailed off, hinting something with his tone. He hesitated to leave, still clutching into the door handle while he stared at you, waiting for you to at least say something, stop him before he does anything stupid and ruin your friendship in the process. 

However, you didn’t, leading the latter to shut the door, the gesture causing you to wince. You gulped, observing as Rafe came to a halt, his back to the door, with his hand yet wrapped around the doorknob. His lips parted with an exhale, fingers finding his jaw as he busied himself with his chin. 

And if you didn’t know him any better, you would’ve thought he was nervous. But he wasn't. You knew Rafe, he was your roommate, after all. 

“What are you doing?” You questioned, voice low enough he could barely hear you. 

Rafe remained silent, leisurely approaching you with haste. Your gaze followed his every move as he came to a halt around the edge of the bed, now towering over you. You fluttered your eyes up at the latter, breath hitching when you noticed the look of despair on his face. 

His fingers hovered beneath your chin, thumb slightly tracing your bottom lip, the fraction causing your mouth to part. He tilted your head with the fingers around your jaw, cursing under his breath once he caught sight of your hazed state, too far gone to comprehend your surroundings. 

“You need help with that?” He questioned, gaze flickering to the shorts that hung low on your waist, able to see them now that he was in your presence. 

“Huh?” You questioned, vision going blurry when his thumb grazed over your teeth. “What do you mean?”

He groaned when your tongue darted out, licking a stripe of his finger, the gesture bold, encouraging him to continue. And he did, inserting his thumb inside your mouth, the sensation of your hot spit coating his finger earning a shuddered exhale out of the boy. 

You swirled your tongue around the digit, driving Rafe over the edge. He imagined your lips wrapped around his cock instead of his finger, the dirty thought causing him to twitch in his pants, fully hard hard by now. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” he whispered, withdrawing his finger from in between your lips, and replaced it with his own as he captured your lips in an open-mouthed kiss. “Can’t believe you’ve never let anyone touch you before.” 

“Is it that hard to believe?” You hushed, lowering your tone to match his. “Are you gonna tease me over it?”

“While that does sound tempting right now,” he smiled over your mouth, littering wet kisses in between his sentence. “I’ll pass, ‘rather focus on you, doll.”

Your face heat up at the pet name, too flustered to respond. You were still in disbelief over this, whatever it was, not expecting anything like this to happen between you two. Fuck, Rafe was kissing you, and you were totally in for it, in fact, your body was speaking faster than your mind, following your needs before you could process it. 

“I’ll guide you through your first time, baby.” He muttered under his breath, knee finding the space in between your legs. He captured the corner of your lips in an open-mouthed kiss, one of his hands toying with the strap of your bra. “Let me make you feel good.” 

“You know,” you trailed off, enjoying the sensation of his fingers tracing the bare skin around your shoulders, the contact like feathers to your flesh. “We shouldn’t be doing this.” 

“Why not?” He asked, hands shifting down to your waist, barely above the hem of your top. “It’s not like we’re doing anything wrong, ‘m only helpin’ you.”

“Jus’ shut up n’ kiss me.” You slurred, wrapping both arms around his neck as you ceased the distance between you. 

A content hum left Rafe’s throat, pressing you down to the bed with the hands around your waist. The latter hovered over you, angling his head to the side to deepen the kiss. A gasp escaped your throat as he nibbled on your bottom lip, the unexpected gesture causing you to part your mouth. 

Rafe saw a chance, and took it, tongue invading the inside of your mouth with the access you granted him, your fingers toyed with the bozzed hair at the back of his head, almost yelping when his cold fingers made contact with the sliver of skin around your stomach. 

You’ve never been touched by a man like this before, Rafe was exploring parts in your body that were meant to be hidden, not for his gaze to admire. Multiple times he had to hold back, watching you innocently walk around the house with a set of pajamas that barely covered anything, revealing all your curves. 

You drove him crazy, with everytime you moved, slightly teased him, told him things no one should know, he wasn’t able to handle it, not with how oblivious you were to the hints he kept dropping. And if he rubbed one out to the thought of you, he wasn’t mentioning it; not to you, that’s for sure.

His fingers toyed with the waistband of your shorts, withdrawing from the kiss to glance down, making you feel shy under his gaze. He tugged the elastic down your side, hissing when his fingers made contact with the warm skin hidden underneath. 

“Fuck, baby.” He groaned, “Get these off, need to see you s’ bad.” 

You moaned at the remark, letting your eyes fall shut as he tugged your shorts down, levelling them with your knees, until he could get a good view of your dripping cunt. A shuddered sigh escaped his lips, fingers instantly finding your folds. 

You gasped at the sensation, arching into the touch, chasing after your pleasure when he moved his hand up your sides, pressing your hips down to the bed. 

“Stay,” He whispered, lips ghosting over yours. “I’m supposed to be helpin’ you, ‘member?”

Right, that skipped over your head. 

“Well then, hurry up and do it.” You whined, almost yelping when his hand hovered over your heat. “Fuck, Rafe, please.”

“Please what?” He question, a teasing grin forming on his lips. “Use your words, baby.” 

“Touch me.” You demanded, words slurring out of your mouth. 

“You know I can’t do that.” He chuckled, retrieving one of your hands from around his neck. “S’ supposed to be your job.”

He guided your hand down to your heat, pressing your fingers to your clit. You moaned, leaning your head back as Rafe moved your digits over your cunt, using his hand to lead you through the rhythm, slow and steady, not too much, in case you grew sensitive to it. 

You desperately shuddered under the touch, gasping when Rafe pressed his hand over yours, the gesture spiraling pleasure throughout your body. His face nuzzled into your neck, littering wet kisses to your throat as he continued pleasing you with his guided hand, leisurenly picking up his (your) pace. 

“Fuck,” you whined, nails digging into the blade of his shoulder, well aware he was waking up with bruises with how much pressure you were applying. “Feels s’ good.” 

“Yeah?” He muffled against your neck, teeth grazing over flesh, before he nibbled right under your jaw. “Am I making you feel good, baby?”

You hummed, too accompanied with your pleasure to respond. You arched into the touch, muffled whines the only thing leaving your throat as Rafe’s fingers traced over your folds, until they found your entrance. 

“Fucking hell,” he grunted, withdrawing from the crook of your neck. “You’re so wet for me, doll.”

Your face heat up at the words, turning your head to the side to avoid looking at the latter. One of his hands slid underneath your shirt, kneading your boob with his fingers. Everything felt overwhelming, whether it was the hand guiding your fingers on your clit, or the one squeezing your breasts, it was too much for you to comprehend with a hazy mind and a blurry vision. 

He managed to get your shirt off with a bit of shuffling, and a bit of help from you; of course, leaving you in only your bra. His mouth salivated at the sight of your breasts, now half on display, only for him to see. 

He swallowed around his throat, fingers toying with the thin material of your bra, using the digits to tug it down, until it exposed your nipple to the chilly air, causing goosebumps to break out across your chest. He rolled it with his thumb, fascinated with how perfectly your boobs sat. 

You jolted under his touch, becoming sensitive to the finger flicking your nipple, growing even more surprised when he leaned down, taking your tit in his mouth. His tongue swirled over your now hardened nipple, letting his spit coat a stripe of your chest. 

Your back arched into Rafe’smouth, eyes forcing shut as his hand found your back, unclipping your bra with a swift gesture. He let the cloth hang loose around your chest, finger dipping beneath the straps around your shoulders, letting them fall down your sides. 

“God,” he grunted, his hot breath fanning over your boob, while his hand toyed with the other, squeezing and kneading the plump flesh. “You’re a fucking mess for me.”

You whined in protest to his words, feeling your pleasure build up, sensing your climax in the process. Rafe’s mouth found your lips once again, capturing them in a lustful kiss. He licked into your mouth, tongue gliding over yours as it met his half way through. 

“I think I’m…” you spoke in between kisses, “Rafe– fuck!”

An audible gasp escaped your throat when Rafe circled your entrance, lining his finger up with your hole. And without a warning, he slipped a finger inside, the new found pleasure mixed with pain alluring you into his trap. 

This was exactly what he wanted, to have you a flustered mess under his touch, show you how good he could make you feel, even if it was wrong, forbidden; in your words.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, parted lips ghosting over yours. “Wanna fuck you so bad, doll.” 

You whined over the statement, picturing the idea of Rafe fucking you stupid, until you no longer were able to remember your name. His finger moved inside you, letting you get used to the digit moving in and out of you. Your hand was back to your side by now, letting Rafe lead you through your built orgasm. 

The latter lined another finger with your hole, slowly letting it insert inside you, using his thumb to rub your clit, merely to distract your mind off the pain, and focus on pleasing you. His pace was slow, steady enough it drove you crazy. 

His fingers continued pumping in and out of you, with you relaxing into the touch once you slightly got used to the digits stretching you out. Rafe picked up his speed when he noticed that, hand growing sloppy inside your dripping hole. 

“Rafe–” you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m so fuckin’ close.”

He hummed, littering open-mouthed kissed to your lips as you gasped into his mouth when his fingers hit your g stop. And you were so closer, with his fingers inserting in and out of you, while his thumb rubbed your clit, chasing after your pleasure. 

Your legs trembled as you came undone, shuddering in Rafe’s arms as he walked you through your orgasm. He slowed down his pace, chuckling as a content hum escaped your throat, pulling him down for a quick kiss.

It was sweet, lingering for only a moment before Rafe pulled away, smug smile ghosting over your lips. He withdrew his fingers from your entrance, with you already missing the warmth of his fingers inside. 

He traced his hand over your figure, coming to a halt when he reached your mouth. He parted your lips with his fingers, a silent demand that you shall not deny. You took the digits in your mouth, gliding your tongue over each one, tasting yourself on them. 

Rafe smirked, watching you with despair, a look of want you only got to experience whenever he was hitting on other girls. Yet, here he was, fucking you with his fingers until you came undone. 

He withdrew his fingers, replacing it with his own mouth as he pulled you in for another kiss, this time to taste you on his lips. He smiled against you, satisfied now that he’s able to savor you whole, having explored every inch of your body; though he knew that wasn’t enough. 

“That felt good,” he started, rubbing his thumb over the corner of your face. “Yeah?”

“Mhm, I must say…” you trailed off, slightly growing flustered by his gaze as it burned holes through your skin. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“You think?” He snickered, thumb brushing over your lips. “Should we give it another go, now that you lost your jerk-off virginity?”

“That’s lame,” You chuckled, a knowing smile suppressing its way across your lips. “Hmm, who knows, maybe that’s not the only virginity I’ll be losing tonight.”

“Okay, that’s a lame way of telling me you want me to take your virginity.” He grinned, amused by the embarrassed shove you gave to his shoulder. 

“My god, shut up!” You blushed, hiding your face with your hands. “That’s not what I was sayin’.”

“No yeah, definitely.” He nodded, attempting to get your hands off your face. “Don’t be a brat, baby, look at me.” 

Your hold fell loose around your face, letting Rafe move your hands off, revealing the smile tugging at your lips. He mimicked your action, expression switching into something serious, all while maintaining a teasing grin still. 

“You know, that wasn’t such a bad idea.” He pecked the corner of your lips, leisurely trailing down to your throat, until he nuzzled in the crook of your neck. “Maybe we should test it out.” 

“Test what out, idiot?” You grinned, tilting your head to give Rafe more access to the side of your neck. 

“Lots of stuff,” he muffled, “I don’t think I’ll be able to hold myself back, now that I got a taste of you.” 

“So, don’t.” You shot back, mouth moving faster than your brain as you responded. “Don’t hold yourself back, ‘m all yours.”

And that was the only sign Rafe needed, ceasing the distance between you before capturing your lips in a kiss, one you don’t think you’ll be able to forget.

[falconwhitaker]

tagged by: @expensivemountaintea – thank you!

last song: Hold on, lemme check Spotify... "Sound of the Underground" by Girls Aloud. This probably tells you a lot about my age, ngl.

favorite color: Red – like a bright cherry red.

last book: The last one I finished was "Delicious in Dungeon Vol. 1"; the last one I read was a chapter of "The Real Jane Austen: A Life In Small Things". And the last one I listened to was part of "A Good Time To Be Born" via Audible.

last movie: A re-watch of "Death Becomes Her" on Hallowe'en, as we do every year in our household.

last tv show: My mum and I are re-watching "House, M.D.", a.k.a. "Medical Malpractice: The TV Show".

sweet/spicy/savory: Usually sweet. I do like a bit of savoury, but I have a hell of a sweet tooth and absolutely zero spice tolerance. Like lemon and herb Nando's tests me.

relationship status: Single and theoretically ready to mingle, but all the social things I do are with friends who have long-term partners or people twice my age because I apparently have the soul of a pensioner in a 30-something body.

last thing i googled: Hold on, let me check... "faerie fragments honey". I'm stuck on a level of the Neopets game Faerie Fragments because the weird yellow stuff that spreads (which I think is honey) appears underneath envelopes and I can't get rid of it, so I can't win the level.

current obsession: Novella November, Neopets, cross-stitching

looking forward to: Christmas, honestly – I've got a busy December planned and I'm gonna have so much fun with friends and family

tagging:

PLEASE DO NOT FEEL THIS IS COMPULSORY, but I thought I'd actually tag some folks for once.

@thirteenthesia @cassandrasdreamworld @butterflyslinky @triskadancer @angel-ascending @nochiquinn @soysaucevictim @clevernamepending @lilactiefling @piratefoxes and anyone else who fancies it.

ten people i'd like to get to know better

tagged by: @megkuna thanks <333

last song: the phantom of the opera

favorite color: muted green

last book: uhhhhhh oh man i really need to start reading books

last movie: phantom of the opera which i watched with a friend

last tv show: the original star trek which i also watched with a friend

sweet/spicy/savory: sweet, i love sugar too much

relationship status: single and not looking, i'd rather just have more friends

last thing i googled: "how to know if skincare routine is too harsh" my pimples hurt in a Different way now :(

current obsession: probably still mob psycho 100 but it's not what it used to be. yay depression

looking forward to: when my family finally moves into the new house

tagging: @scarecloud69 @disorganised-thoughtss @daneonrainbow @lawful-goof @officialkarinuzumaki @leo-probably @vychodocech @umkayonninay @mocha-blossom @spageddy29 no pressure though <3

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Just A Prank

Franco Colapinto x Fem!reader

minor angst and a lot of fluff

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

Instagram

F1 and 2 Masterlist

The day began like any other. You and Franco had both slept in, rare and cherished moments of rest squeezed between the constant hum of his career as a Formula 2 driver. Lately, every moment together felt extra special—his season was nearing its end, and with it, the uncertainty of what would come next loomed ever closer.

That morning, you both lounged on the sofa, Franco’s head resting comfortably in your lap as you absentmindedly ran your fingers through his messy dark hair. You could feel the quiet rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his body leaning into yours. He seemed unusually relaxed, but you could also sense an underlying tension—like he was holding something back.

“Do you want to go out for a walk later?” you asked, trying to pull him out of his pensive silence.

Franco looked up at you, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I’d rather stay like this for a bit longer,” he murmured, leaning up to steal a kiss. “Besides, who knows when I’ll get the chance to do this again.”

“Franco, don’t be so dramatic,” you chuckled, but his words stirred something inside you. You both knew the competitive nature of racing, the constant push to perform, and the slim chances of moving up to Formula 1. He’d been hoping, of course, but you could feel the weight of the uncertainty. It had been pressing on both of you, silent and unspoken.

As the day wore on, you found yourself nestled in the little routines that made life with Franco feel so complete: cooking breakfast together, debating which show to watch, laughing over silly inside jokes only the two of you understood. The hours passed, and you found comfort in his presence, a sense of home you never thought you’d find so soon in life.

Then, in the early afternoon, Franco’s phone rang. The sharp sound cut through the quiet, and he tensed immediately.

“Hold on, amor,” he said softly, his brow furrowing as he glanced at the screen. “It’s my boss… I need to take this.”

You watched him slip into the next room, closing the door behind him as he answered. You felt your heart rate pick up, your mind running through a million scenarios. You knew he’d been anxiously awaiting some news about next season, but he hadn’t said much—always downplaying it, always acting like it was no big deal. Yet you could tell it mattered to him more than he let on.

Minutes ticked by, each one dragging longer than the last. You strained to hear snippets of his voice, but it was muffled behind the door. Your stomach churned with nerves, and you hugged a pillow to your chest, wondering what could possibly be taking so long.

Finally, he emerged, his face unreadable. You searched his expression, looking for any hint of what he’d heard, but he just sighed, walking toward you with a faint smile.

“So…” he said, plopping down beside you, trying to look nonchalant. “Looks like next season… they’re, uh, bringing someone else in to replace me.”

The words landed like a stone in your chest. “What?” you whispered, wide-eyed with disbelief. “Franco, no—there’s no way! You’ve been amazing this season! Who would they possibly bring in that’s better than you?”

He shrugged, looking away, his face somber. “Apparently they want a different direction or something.”

Anger bubbled up inside you, your face heating as you struggled to keep your composure. “I’m sorry, but that’s insane. You’ve worked so hard, Franco. You don’t deserve this! It’s not fair!”

Franco bit his lip, struggling to contain a grin. You were too furious to notice.

“I’ll call them,” you continued, clenching your fists. “I’ll go down to the paddock myself if I have to and demand answers. They don’t realize what they’re giving up.”

“Y/N,” Franco interrupted softly, his voice trembling slightly with laughter, “it’s a joke.”

You froze, trying to process his words. “A… a joke?” you repeated, blinking in confusion.

He laughed, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you into his embrace, his whole body shaking with laughter. “Yes, cariño, a joke! They didn’t replace me. They actually… called me up. I’m going to F1.”

For a second, you couldn’t speak. Relief and shock hit you in equal measure, a tidal wave of emotions threatening to spill over. You blinked, your mind racing to catch up. “Wait, Franco, are you serious?”

He nodded, his eyes shining with excitement, a look you’d never seen before. “I am. I didn’t want to get my hopes up until I knew for sure. But yes… I’m moving up to Formula 1.”

“Franco!” you gasped, grabbing his face in your hands as the reality of it set in. Pride, love, and pure joy swelled in your heart, and you leaned in, pressing a fierce, grateful kiss to his lips. “I’m so, so proud of you.”

He grinned, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. “So… do you still want to go to that fancy dinner? I think I could use a celebration.”

You didn’t need any more convincing. After changing into something special for the occasion, you spent the rest of the evening out together, every laugh and glance shared over the candlelit table a reminder of the journey you’d both been on together, and the exciting path that lay ahead. It felt surreal, like a dream you both dared not wake up from.

The restaurant was perfect—a quiet, candlelit spot with a warm ambiance, the kind of place where you felt like the world outside melted away. It was just you and Franco, tucked into a cozy booth with glasses of deep red wine glinting in the soft light. You both had eyes only for each other.

As you sat down, Franco took your hand, his fingers warm and familiar as they laced through yours. He began tracing soft, invisible circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, a simple gesture that sent gentle shivers up your spine. You caught yourself smiling, wondering if he realized just how much these little touches meant to you.

“Who are you most excited to see on the grid?” you asked, playfully narrowing your eyes at him. You knew he had a few favorite drivers, people he looked up to and couldn’t wait to work alongside. The mere thought of him among the ranks of those he admired filled you with pride.

“Ah, I can’t lie,” he said with a grin, leaning closer. “It has to be Alonso. To think that I’ll be racing alongside him… It still doesn’t feel real. And Verstappen, too—I’ve watched them since I was a kid, you know? To be up there with them, fighting for positions on the same track…” He shook his head, a little awestruck, and you could see the light in his eyes, that spark of a dream coming true.

You squeezed his hand, feeling his excitement wash over you like a wave. “It’s everything you’ve worked for, Franco. And you deserve it more than anyone.”

He gave you a bashful smile, a flicker of vulnerability in his expression. “I’d never have made it here without you, Y/N. You’re my biggest supporter, and that means the world to me.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” you murmured, brushing his cheek softly. “It’s just… I’m so happy to see you finally getting what you’ve dreamed of. It’s going to be incredible, Franco.”

The two of you settled into an easy rhythm of talking about the future—where he’d be traveling, who he’d meet, the circuits he was most excited to race on. He laughed as he recounted stories of watching past races as a kid, how he’d imagined himself on those tracks, feeling every turn and straight as if he was already there.

“To celebrate,” he began, leaning back with a mischievous smile, “we should travel somewhere just for us. No circuits, no media. Just the two of us, like old times.”

Your eyes lit up. “Like a real holiday?”

He nodded. “Exactly. We could go somewhere quiet, off the grid. A beach, maybe. Just us, some sunshine, no worries.”

“Let’s do it,” you said, a smile spreading across your face. “After your first race, we’ll sneak away and have our own little victory tour.”

Franco laughed, shaking his head. “It’s a date, then.” He raised his glass in a toast, and you clinked yours against his, both of you laughing, a gentle warmth in the air as the wine brought out the color in his cheeks.

As he sipped, he looked at you thoughtfully. “What about you, Y/N? This is going to be a huge change. Are you ready for all the travel, the media, the madness?”

You felt his fingers lace through yours a little tighter, a look of genuine concern crossing his face. You took a breath, holding his gaze. “Franco, I’ll follow you anywhere. This is your dream, and I want to be there to support you every step of the way. I’ll be right there, cheering you on, reminding you to eat, helping you decompress after every race. Whatever you need.”

For a moment, he just looked at you, his face softening, his eyes full of that love that had been there from the beginning. “I’m the luckiest guy alive, you know that?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but your voice caught as you noticed something over his shoulder. At a table just across the room, seated side by side with familiar expressions of pride and warmth, were your parents. They were dressed for the occasion, looking right at you with knowing smiles, raising their glasses in your direction.

“Wait… are those… my parents?” you whispered, glancing back at Franco, utterly bewildered. “What are they doing here?”

But when you turned back to him, Franco was no longer in his seat. Instead, he was down on one knee beside you, his warm hand still holding yours. In his other hand, he held a small, velvet ring box, his face a mixture of nervousness and undeniable love.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice soft yet steady. “From the moment I met you, I knew you were something special. You’re my best friend, my rock, and the reason I’ve been able to dream as big as I have. I can’t imagine facing any of life’s twists and turns without you by my side. I want to spend every lap of this life with you. Will you marry me?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, the enormity of the moment crashing over you. You could feel the warmth of his hand still holding yours, the love in his gaze steady and unwavering. You could only nod, whispering, “Yes, Franco. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

The restaurant broke into applause as he slid the ring onto your finger. He rose to his feet, pulling you close, and you laughed through your tears, burying your face in his shoulder as the joy of it all overflowed. It felt as though time had stopped, as though the two of you were the only people in the room.

When you pulled back, your parents were there, wrapping you in hugs, congratulating you both. You looked back at Franco, his eyes never leaving yours, that same quiet joy radiating from him.

In that moment, you knew that no matter where this life took you, every twist and turn would be worth it because you’d be facing them together.

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti @dhanihamidi @tellybearryyyy @a-panseuxalmess @love-simon @tallrock35 @iiaik0ii @Milkyymelanine @ilovsyou3000morgan @styl1shl1v @eddieharrington @hellowgoodbye

[felassan]

Lucanis and Crows snippets, under a cut due to spoilers.

How would Viago and Teia react to a Crow Rook being romantically involved with Lucanis? "Teia is going to plan the wedding, and insist that Viago give Rook away at the ceremony. Viago will sigh dramatically, lecture Rook about it, and then spend a week picking out the right gloves to wear." [source]

If Illario wasn't locked away, how would he react? "Under any circumstances, Illario would be upset since it's a whole lot of attention that's STILL not on him. He would definitely get drunk at the reception and tell the same two most embarrassing stories about Lucanis over and over until Viago knocked him out and put him upstairs." [source]

With Rook romancing Lucanis, is it possible that Spite could become affection or benevolence? "Spite's basic aspect is defiance. He can be more or less difficult depending on influence (rebellion vs. vindictiveness, etc), but at his core he's always going to be a spirit of "NOPE"" [source]

Lucanis' mother was the heir apparent to House Dellamorte [source]

Does Spite have any kind of feeling about Rook? "Spite is fond of Rook in his own Spite-like way. He and Lucanis agree on the point of trusting Rook over and above other people or themselves. He does go to Rook for help with Lucanis, after all." [source]

For the Lion King reference in Murder of Crows, Mary Kirby went to the cinematic animators and described it as Illario's "Scar at Pride Rock" scene [source]

User: "I cut Lucanis' hair and shaved his beard and I almost feel like I should apologise to him" / Mary Kirby: "Now he can't tell himself from Illario, and you've given them both a complex." [source]

Teia and Viago were half-written by Mary Kirby and half-written by Luke Kristjanson [source]

Lucanis likes his coffee black [source]

Would he judge your coffee order? "As long as it's not boiled, or instant coffee, or whatever that stuff from a can is, he's fine with it. Or at least, he will only judge you silently for it." [source]

What kind of treats does Lucanis like? "Sweet, because it goes better with his coffee. Savory, if somehow he is NOT drinking coffee at that moment." [source]

Lucanis grew his beard and long hair while in the Ossuary. "He hasn't exactly had a haircut in a while." [source, two].

Would Lucanis make Powerpoint presentations about jobs or to talk? "No, he doesn't want to talk to anyone, let alone explain things and present them. That's 300% an Illario thing. That man has a powerpoint to introduce his powerpoint about why you should listen to his powerpoint." [source]

"Lucanis would never be on social media. He'd be on YouTube watching videos of people restoring rusty cutlery with no dialogue until four in the morning." [source] Could he tell when content is manufactured? "Yes. And he gets upset and finds Bellara or Neve (whichever is unluckier) to rant about it." [source]

Lucanis' favorite stove burner? Right front [source]

"Spite doesn't have any concept of physical appearances. It looks the way Lucanis sees himself. Lucanis is never relaxed, even in casual wear." [source]

Along with Lucanis Mary Kirby also wrote Spite [source]

Mary Kirby wrote Illario, Luke Kristjanson wrote the Crow faction quests [source]

Lucanis' perfect date night? "I'm gonna be honest: There is a non-zero chance it would involve assassinating somebody and getting coffee, and I'm not entirely certain which would come first." [source]

Lucanis "has so much [trauma] to sort through, and he could really use some help. Like, a Marie Kondo level of help with that." [source]

What sparks joy for Lucanis? "Coffee, paella, wyverns, knives, REDACTED, book club, REDACTED, revenge..." [source]

Lucanis is older than Illario by a few months [source]

[hotvintagepoll]

Hello! Do you have a favorite winter recipe? I'm looking to expand my repertoire, because I've only lived in a climate that snows for a couple years, and I don't have enough cozy, bone warming foods!

PS - I keep having to feed my cat pumpkin puree because he has some tummy troubles but he will only eat it if I gently hand feed him with a spoon. Just thought you might enjoy that.

YES HERE IS JOYOUS SOUP

(i have never actually called it joyous soup but it's what i feel everytime i make it and i feel like everyone should make it)

This soup does not have a proper recipe because uhh, my mom is bad with recipes but ALSO this soup truly adapts to whatever you have in your fridge, as long as you have 1) some kind of oil or butter to sautee things with and 2) potatoes. this is the sam gamgee make-it-on-the-side-of-a-mountain-winter soup.

Step 1. Take your potatoes—6 is the ideal but 4 works—and chop them up rough. "What kind of potatoes?" Whatever they have on the side of the mountain, Sam. You now have a bunch of 1" potato chunks or discs (I like discs). I assumed you washed them first but if you forgot you can wash them now.

Step 2. Get your oil or butter sizzling. I use about two tablespoons of butter to start and add more as I go if the potatoes don't look fully covered. I am probably cooking the butter on medium.

Step 3. You're putting the potatoes in the butter. You're pretending to fry them. Watch them get all buttery and golden and a little brown and crispy. You're thinking, man, I could eat these as they are right now. You could do that. Don't. Add garlic and onions if you have them. Add lots.

Step 4. Just as you're like oh MAN these potatoes and garlic and onions look really good fried just like this, you're going to swamp them in water. You're going to stare at what you've done and thought you made a mistake. You have not. The water should just be covering the potatoes and now you've turned the water up to high, staring at your weird sad soup pot, that smells deliciously of butter garlic onions and potatoes.

Step 5. In another saucepan, you are melting more butter (or oil, or what have you) and figuring out what else you have in your cupboard. Carrots? Those can go in. Parsnips could too. Spinach works nicely. Any onions or garlic you forgot can be added again now. Mushrooms are fucking fabulous. Leeks? Sublime. The only veg you should be avoiding are the ones that are secretly fruits (no watery tomatoes or squishy cucumbers) or the ones that you think are insipid (celery).

Step 6. You're chopping all of that up as much as you like and browning it up in the butter. You're also adding whatever spices strike your fancy. I love salt, so that's always going in, but I usually add black pepper and cayenne, and then I get fruity with it and start adding in paprikas and cumins and turmerics or corianders and thymes and basils and parsleys. It all depends on what smells right to you combined with the steams you're making, and how much spice you want kicking you later.

Step 7. How are your boiled potatoes looking? Are they soft yet? Good. Can you stick a fork in them yet, and has the water boiled down to almost nothing? Excellent. How are all your buttery brown vegetables looking? If you want to give up the whole experiment and eat them right out of the pan, it's time to make another mistake and add all your gorgeous browned vegetables to your disastrous wet potato pot.

Step 8. You now have a lot of delicious stuff looking wet and sad in your potato pot. Pour in a bit more water (or veg broth, or stock if you have it) and stir that all up. Let it stew together a bit and combine flavors. Turn it back down to medium so you don’t scorch any of your nice wet veg things. If you're fancy like my mom, you get out an immersion blender here. If you're broke and possess your grandmother's food processor, like me, you're pouring that all into the food processor with the biggest blade you have and turning it into a smoothie. If your concoction seems oddly chunky you need to add more water.

Step 9. Wet sad potato smoothie is not much to look at but now you're adding CREAM. and CHEESE. and MORE SPICES TO YOUR TASTE. If you don't have cream MILK WORKS FINE. If you don't have cheese THAT IS OKAY. If you like your soup with chunks LEAVE OUT SOME OF YOUR VEG NEXT TIME and ADD IT IN HERE. At this point, you have a gorgeous creamy soup that's soft and luscious (that's the potatoes), includes all your favorite veg (that's everything you got out of the fridge), and can go in any number of taste directions depending on what spices you put in (I've made this with Indian spices, English herb garden spices, Mexican spices, Hungarian spices—every time it's delicious and works a different way).

Step 10. I hope you have a lot of bread because you're going to be dipping it in your soup saying :) man this is a nice soup :) and knowing you can make it whenever you have weird leftovers, as long as you have potatoes and butter. and what else does a person need in life than potatoes and butter?

enjoy your joyous soup <3 i may have forgotten several steps but as long as you follow -brown some veg -add water -add spice -blend the shit out of it, you can never really go wrong <3

[dukeofankh]

I mean, nothing I said was suggesting that nothing can or should be done. I have a couple things I can think of but people are already rightly pointing out that my experience, like all experiences, isnt universal. Calling out a shallow take isn't something I'm doing because I'm so so wise and I know how to fix everything.

I have heard the take that part of the fix for this will probably be a lot more white men with podcasts, and that is almost definitely *part* of the fix. It is legitimately difficult for young men to find content about random ass basic hobbies that isn't being served to them by low-key fascists. That needs to change. When talking with other progressive men, something that came up a lot was after school programs, especially ones that bring boys in more contact with their communities and expose them to different kinds of people in positive ways. Hate breeds in ignorance and isolation.

You already seem very anti-terf, which is great. That is also part of it. I don't honestly think that women are the cause of this problem but like, in terms of fixing this and convincing men that feminists are on their side, yeah, some small part of it is probably looking at the state of feminism currently and recognizing that it has devolved in many very public online spaces into reactionary gender essentialism and that radical feminism takes up a lot more air than anyone would like to pretend it does. "Sure I wholeheartedly reblogged something that claimed that any man who seems decent is just trying to let women's guards down to make it easier to assault them, something all men are trying to do to women at all times, but that's just venting. Ignore that broadside that me and my friends just unloaded on you and everyone who looks anything like you, if you think that your hurt feelings about that matter, that's on you for not recognizing that our pain justifies saying literally whatever we want" (to call up a random example) is certainly a standard that it is possible to enforce in some more isolated corners of the internet, but there has been a serious breakdown between the personal and the public, which is hell for messaging as a movement. This is no longer drinks with friends, this stuff gets broadcast worldwide to men who are trying to get a sense of what feminism is about. At some level, what is cathartic to say will have to give way to what is tactically wise to announce. The only men who will willingly share space with that sentiment if it is core to this movement are either convinced that they are personally exempt from examining their own privilege, which is its own problem, or men who agree wholeheartedly that all men are evil, them included, and are trying to atone. I've interacted plenty with both in male feminist spaces. It's not a winning team. I am aware how hard that will be. 4B type political lesbianism/lesbian separatism seems to be having a moment (at least as a meme) right now as people process their grief in this moment. That's understandable. But it's not wise.

Considering this is happening in the wake of the US election, and I'm saying this as a Canadian, it's also worth gently and precisely noting that even if the harm is the same, someone who voted for trump didn't necessarily do it because they despise women. If we're just looking at the raw numbers and saying "we're doomed", that's probably not helpful or, luckily, accurate. The project of changing the cultural narrative is huge and depressingly long. The rise of reactionary right wing populism when a society starts failing its young people economically isn't. That is a different, and much easier project. If you don't want people to vote for right wing populism, you need to give them left wing populism, and infiltrating the democratic party and pulling all the same tricks the right did but towards economic policy that will provide the next generation of men with the opportunity to own homes and pull their weight supporting families will do a hell of a lot more in a much shorter time than systematically changing each and every man's heart, especially considering a lot of the people who voted for trump weren't men. This project will outlast us, but MAGA doesn't have to.

If your vision for the deradicalization of right-wing men begins and ends with "other men telling them that that's gross and to stop it" then I'm sorry, you do not understand how masculinity works.

"Men who hold patriarchal status" and "men who are feminists" are two groups who overlap less than you want them to. I'm sorry. That's not solely because men are so happy with patriarchal status that they don't want to risk it by policing misogyny/queerphobia/racism, It's because being misogynistic, queerphobic, and racist, end expressing other forms of toxic masculinity(and often abusively so) are part of how people establish and maintain patriarchal status. The men who have the ability to stop this via nothing but peer pressure are the very people who are doing it. That's by design. And engaging in feminist intervention is, in and of itself, usually the abrupt end of that status and its associated power to persuade misogynistic men.

Like, I have worked in blue collar jobs as a notably queer person. It was pretty much a constant deluge of verbal abuse. In my experience, most blue collar work environments are exploitative, abusive, and bigoted, and very gleefully so. On the occasions I have spoken up about someone saying something that was super fucking out of line (asking me which of the girls walking by was hottest. We were installing a portable classroom at a middle school), believe it or not, they completely failed to be shamed! Because nobody else on the crew gave a fuck. *I* was the weird one. They ghosted me. A full blown company ghosted me. I suddenly didn't have a job anymore because they just straightforwardly stopped telling me where the next job site was.

Like, this doesn't mean that it's your job to do it, but this vision you have of these big groups of men where everyone is on the fence and there is precisely one shit stirrer who can be shut down by a brave feminist man who can single handedly set the example for all these other guys...you are high. You are describing an "everybody clapped" level absurd scenario. Most of these truly virulent misogynistic guys either have zero friends, because, you know, our society is atomized to fuck, or they are in a group where the feminist guy is actually the weirdo who can be shut down and ostracized much, much easier than the misogynists, because there is no such thing as a man misogynists respect who stands up for women.

You might be saying "well, we're talking about longstanding personal relationships, actually. Like, they need to have to want to spend time with you and then, as a side effect, you can mind control them out of being a threat to us."

Problem with that being:

1: Many feminist men also have no friends, see the atomized society above.

2: Feminist men already stopped hanging out with men who make rape jokes because why the fuck would we want to spend time with them.

3: That isn't just because we respect women so hard. We are in many cases talking about men who are also deeply queerphobic, heirarchical, violent and abusive to other men. What initially drew me to feminism and women was a lack of heirarchical squabbling and constant bullying, and the ability to be openly queer. A lot of men who came to feminism did so because they knew that the patriarchy was not a place they would find success or acceptance. These are not the men who are gonna be able to change right wing minds.

4. Men do not view themselves as a monolith. There is no universal brotherhood of men. The actual meaning of the term "Fragile masculinity" is that men are constantly expected to prove that they are deserving of the status of being a member of their own gender. There are large swathes of men--including most of the men who you'd look to as examples of good, feminist men who you want to undertake this project--who are considered failed men, sissies, f****ts, soyboys, ect. They are. Not. Going. To. Convince. These. Men. Of. Jack. Shit. Much less successfully *shame* them. Jesus.

I know all of this sucks. I know it would be cool to be able to just point at a group and have them be responsible for the work. But nah. It's gonna have to be a societal project, one that will probably outlast all of us. Sorry. The thing you want these men to do is, absolutely, the morally correct thing to do. But presuming that it would be effective is, and once again I am so sorry about this, just ignorance of how these social groups function.

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Hiii, loved to see that you a writing for arcane again. Tbh I just loved Isha and Jinx, so could could you make headcanons for how Jinx, Vi and Cait would be like taking care of or rising a kid with a girlfriend or s/o?

Sure I can! I don’t want he post to be huge though so I’ll break it up into three separate ones! Enjoy!

Family Bound

Raising or looking after a kid was not easy by any means, but taking care of one with Jinx was even harder

Jinx does not know how to be a paternal figure, or an older sibling kind of figure

She has really bad experiences with the only ones she’s ever known, so how was she supposed to fix that with some kid she’s not even related to?

But, for your sake, I feel like jinx loves you enough to try

If the kid was your sibling, I feel like she would be more reserved and distant from the child

In some way you and your little sibling remind her of herself and Vi when they were young and it’s not a good thing

She’s only able to take care of the kid once she separated those two things and finally able to bond with the kid

It takes a lot of time and patience from you for Jinx to be able to bond with the kid

If y’all found the kiddo, I feel like it would be easier for her to take care of it more than it being your sibling

When she does come around, Jinx can be very protective of the kid

She’s more the parent that doesn’t discipline and lets the kid get away with stuff, which causes some behavioral issues and arguments between you two cause that’s not really a good thing

So she has to learn from you how to take care of the child

She teaches the kid lots of things like how to invent gadgets, to make sure they work, how to protect yourself, and lots of other things like that

On more positive notes:

You’re the main bridge between the two so when they’re left alone together, they have no clue what to do or how to bond

But you do find little bits and pieces of a genuine bond forming between the two

You see the little smile Jinx wears when she finds genuine joy in taking care of them

She wonders how anyone could abandon their child or harm them when the one she takes care of with you is so beautifully innocent and childlike

In a way the kid heals the inner child and the Powder still inside of Jinx

She takes care of them in the way she wished Silco or Vi was

And she understands them in a way not even you can, especially if they show signs that Powder and Jinx did when she was young

She likes goofing off with the kid, and she likes playing around with them

You’ve found them roughhousing and giggling more times than you could count

and you’ve found them testing out bombs, which only happens when it’s in a safe place and a safe distance away

Jinx would never intentionally harm your guys’ child

She loves them so much that sometimes it’s scary to see how attached she has become

She doesn’t know what she would do if anything happened to you or the kid

She doesn’t ever wanna scare them, which has only happpened once

Jinx was having a freak out after everything has happened, probably after Vi was found to be an enforcer or after their fight

She was going through it, yelling, breaking things and crying and screaming

She didn’t notice how scared your guys’ child was until they started crying

Jinx felt her heart break, and even if she was ashamed of doing it, she ran out

She didn’t know how to handle the gaf she scare them so much

She was gone for a while and when she came back she was visibly distant

It took a lot of patience and reassurance for her to come back around the kid without being hesitant about every move

But the kid loved her, and when she saw your child was more sad about the fact she was gone, it broke her heart and almost healed it at the same time

She doesn’t know what she would do if they feared her badly

She loves coloring with the little girl or boy, and she likes helping them figure out outfits

She likes running around the lanes with them, or going to the old hideout

The two also love messing with Sevika as the woman has now joined your little mini family

Jinx and the kid often pass out together, both on the ground or wherever and limbs tangled and snoring with drool on the corners of their lips

Which means you have to carry both to bed a lot of the time

Jinx loves. Showing he kid to invent, and how to fight and everything

She loves seeing the sparkle in the kids eye when she shows them fireworks and anything Jinx

She and the kid have a bond you don’t know how to describe

She also doesn’t try to keep the fact of who she is and the things she’s done a secret from the child

Sometimes she can be harsh, but it’s from a space of love even if the kid gets hurt feelings

She always makes up for it though

[ssentimentals]

Hii can i request mingyu + hurt prompt #34? Thankssss

hi sweets! thank you for requesting, hopefully you will like it! 💜

hurt prompts: 'the things you said yesterday... did you mean them?'

someone is caressing your hand. it's a nice feeling to wake up, especially when you know who is responsible for said action. mingyu's face is the first thing you see when you open your eyes and you smile a little. mingyu doesn't smile back and memories of last night rush in, reminding you why you're waking beside him and not in his arms. before panic rises, you remind yourself that mingyu is caressing your hand gently now, so everything can't be that mad.

'morning,' you whisper, afraid to talk in a normal voice for some reason.

'morning.' mingyu repeats and clears his throat. 'slept well?'

you don't really remember how you fell asleep; probably knocked out from crying and fighting. arguments with mingyu were rare but whenever they did happen, they sucked all the energy out of you, leaving you drained and exhausted. truth to be told, you don't even remember coming to the bedroom, so mingyu probably carried you here once you fell asleep in the living room.

'not really,' you reply, not feeling rested at all. 'you?'

he shakes his head. when you first started dating, you both promised each other to never go to bed angry, so what happened last night is an exception of sorts. 'the things you said yesterday... did you mean them?' mingyu asks quietly, voice muffled by the pillow.

your mouth opens but nothing comes out. to your horror, you don't even remember about which things mingyu is talking exactly - a lot of stuff was said yesterday and not all of it was said due to anger or frustration. but mingyu is sensitive, always has been in a much more delicate headspace than you, so you tiptoe around the question, looking for the right answer while also staying honest: 'any of the mean and angry words - no. i love you, gyu, i'd never actually mean any of those. but what i said about the whole thing, like in the beginning, what made me upset in the first place.. yeah, i meant that. i stand by it even now.'

mingyu doesn't say anything at first. he just stares at your hands, chewing on his bottom lip, thinking about your answer. you both treasure honesty the most, so he knows you're being sincere. 'okay.' he settles for in the end, taking a deep breath. 'i also didn't mean everything i said after we moved from the kitchen to the living room.'

you smile and hesitantly interlace your fingers together. 'i know, gyu.'

he nods again and squeezes and when he does that, you feel like you can breathe again. if mingyu is not declining physical contact, if he's still here then you two can work it out. 'we don't have to do it now,' you say, not wanting to get up. 'we can just lay here for a while.'

sigh that mingyu lets out on this is full of relief. 'yes. yes- yeah. please.'

you both move in sync, slotting your bodies together until it's impossible to tell where one ends and another one begins. 'sleep a bit more for now,' mingyu whispers, holding you tight. 'i'll be here when you wake up.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[papaya-twinks]

get over it! - l.n - p.2

Warnings: Angst, swearing, mental breakdown, breaking glass.

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - sorry this took so long, I was doing all Lando’s birthday ones x

parts 🧡

Time Skip - Formula One Baku Grand Prix Pre-Race

Baku had always been a city of contrasts—historical yet modern, chaotic yet beautiful. And today, it felt like the perfect reflection of Lando's mood as he walked down the paddock, his eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses, jaw clenched tight.

Since your little ‘incident’ with Lando at Qualifying, you’d made sure to steer well out of his way. You would rather not be blamed for his driving by Zak or Andrea anyhow. It did slightly piss off the mechanics on Lando’s side of the garage, however.

Your energy was something that helped a lot of them to keep going, and now you were steering clear of Lando’s while side of the garage. You hadn’t even noticed him sliding into Oscar’s garage, as you handed around drinks.

“Y/N,” he said, tapping you on the shoulder, your shoulders immediately raising defensively, your head turning away from, signalling your dislike in speaking to him. “Y/N," he pressed, this time with more urgency. "Can we talk?"

You shook your head, still not looking at him. "I don’t think there’s anything left to say,” you said simply, handing some of Oscar’s mechanics some drinks. "You’re avoiding me," he said, his voice tinged with frustration. "You can’t just walk away, not after what happened,” he said firmly.

“Yes I can, besides, why do you even care? It’s not like you to do so,” you said, placing your tray down, taking some new cups from the stack. “Some of my mechanics are pissed about you not being in the garage and stuff,” he mumbled, slightly annoyed.

“Oh, and they made you drag your ass here to ask?” you asked, a scoff on your lips as Lando rolled his eyes. “Sorry for asking you to do your own damn job,” he snapped, his voice filling with the frustration and bite from earlier.

“Let me do my fucking job, and stop talking to me, then,” you said, your voice with equally as much spite as you glared at him, his jaw set firm, eyes narrowed. You rolled your eyes, walking past him, your chin held high - so what if he was a driver? He didn’t own you!

You’d had many fights with Lando, countless, some of them about such minor things, you almost laughed when you looked back at them. Of course, there was a time, even after the Sochi incident, where maybe, just maybe, there was a chance he could have forgiven you.

But then again, it was Lando Norris. He’d do anything just to fuck shit up.

Flashback - 2021 Mexican Grand Prix

It had started innocently enough - a late-night discussion about his diet. He had asked you to double-check his hydration formula before heading to the gym. You’d pointed out that it didn’t seem balanced, that he'd been skipping meals. He’d brushed it off like it was nothing. But that was just the start. 

“Why do you always act like you know better?” he had snapped, voice low but cutting. “I’m the one racing out there. You’re just a helper,”. His words stung. You didn’t respond immediately, too shocked by the sudden shift in his tone. But when you did, your voice was tight with restraint.

“Just a helper?” you’d repeated, incredulous. “I’ve been working with you for years, Lando. Don’t act like I don’t know how to do my job,” you had said, your voice edged with a hint of shock and hurt. “You don’t work with me, Y/N, you’re not on my level, you won’t ever be on my level. You work for the team, at least get it right,”.

“You can’t just skip meals and expect your hydration to be perfect,” you had replied, a little more firmly. “Your body needs food to process all the fluids properly. If you’re running on empty, no amount of water is going to make a difference.”

“I’m fine,” Lando shot back immediately, his tone defensive. “I told you, I’m good. I just didn’t feel like eating. It’s not a big deal,” he said, his voice becoming more and more frustrated. Why couldn’t he understand what you were saying? And why did all your arguments have to be centred around water?

For a moment, it seemed like Lando was going to say something else, but instead, he crossed his arms, letting out a long, frustrated sigh. “I don’t need a babysitter, Y/N. I’m not a child. I know how to do my job,” he had said, his eyes narrowed once more.

The words hit harder than they should have. You’d been working with him for quite a while, supporting him in every way you could, and this was the first time you felt like he didn’t appreciate it. “I never said you were,” you had said, your voice cold now, your patience worn thin.

“But when you start acting like a diva and skipping meals while I’m the one having to pick up the pieces, then yeah, maybe I do need to step in,” you said, your jaw set firmly and your eyes narrowed. Lando opened his mouth to retort, but you turned away before he could, your back to him as you grabbed your tablet from the table.

Your hands had been shaking with frustration, but you tried to keep your voice steady. “I don’t have time for this right now,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “I’ve got a hundred other things to do,” you moved to his door, only stopped by his voice.

He didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel his eyes on you. After a long, charged silence, he finally spoke. “You think I’m just acting like a diva, huh?” he asked, his voice colder than you would have thought, sharp and almost like a snarl.

“Im not the one who fucking acts like I run the whole team off my own back - all you do is give water to people, Y/N, you’re useless!” he snapped, his voice raising as you flinched. “Useless? I’m not-,” you started, your own voice becoming louder.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Y/N! You think, just coz a few people like you, that you’re the one managing this whole team? You don’t do shit, Y/N, you’re not important! People would be sad you left your day or two and forget about it, okay? You’d be replaced in an instant, you have no skill!”.

All of this. Over a water plan. “I…fuck you, Lando,” you said, your eyes brimming with tears, voice cracking as you stepped out the door, not even sparing him a glance as you rushed away from him,”

Present Time - Formula One Baku Grand Prix

Sure, you were pissed at Lando, but it really wasn’t fair to take it out on the whole team, do, begrudgingly, you dragged yourself to Lando’s side of the garage to hand out refreshments, much to the relief of the mechanics and engineers.

Just imagining if Sochi had never happened in 2021, or you’d never said the comment that you’d said, it would’ve been some different, and you would’ve been cheering and going crazy with the team, watching Lando climb higher and higher from his low position.

You could practically feel the tension radiating off of Lando’s car, the stress of a potential championship fight that could be washed away due to one bad qualifying session, or the struggles of getting through to at least a points playing position, everyone was on edge.

Lando had a lot of positions to make up if he wanted to salvage his weekend, or at least begin to try and gain some points. And boy, did he make up positions. One after another, he passed car after car, refusing to let the mistake of qualifying 16th define his race. He was determined to prove himself.

As the race wore on, Lando's mood lifted. Every overtake, every clean pass, brought him closer to his goal. He had no idea what position he was in now—he was just racing, just pushing harder than he ever had. When the final laps came, he found himself fighting for 4th. And when he crossed the line, there it was: 4th place.

But all you could do was bury it deep inside of you and push Lando out of your mind - sometimes there were times when you wished you could have screamed and cheered with the team, like in Miami. But you had Oscar’s current winning margin to distract you from the hurt in the pit of your belly.

Time Skip - Post Race - Baku

The mechanics jostled round the garage, all talking, but slowly leaving, exiting the garage as the sky darkened, a pale shade of greyish-blue, a colour you found quite beautiful actually. Like a reflection of the ocean, in some ways.

“Why are you still here?” a voice snapped you from your train of thought, ruining what was otherwise quite a peaceful movement, your gaze forced sway from the clouds. “None of your business,” you scoffed, picking up your drinks tray from the side as Lando stared.

“I mean, kinda is,” he replied, his nose scrunched distastefully, like you were something or someone lower than him, which was how he perceived you anyways. “Everyone else has gone home,” he pointed out.

“Cheers Captain Obvious,” you said sarcastically, the glasses tinkling on your tray, some with lines of red wine at the bottom, beams of white from the lights above reflecting off the glass. “Whatever,” Lando said, his voice nearly a mumble as he dug he is hands into his pockets.

“Look, I’d appreciate if you stayed the fuck out of my way,” Lando said sarcastically, “I can’t stand your stupid presence,” he snapped, “there’s nothing to fucking be so happy about, I can’t have you annoyingly positive energy around all the time,”.

“Excuse me?” you said, not quite sure what to say after that little outburst of his came from. “You heard me, you’re stupidly positive and all you do is frolic around with that stupid little tray of yours,” Lando snapped, pushing the tray out of your hand, the plate clattering onto the floor, the glasses shattering at your feet.

“Lando, what the fuck is your issue?!” you half-screamed, scrambling away from the shards of glass scattered on the floor, cutting at the soles of your sneakers. “Just….fuck off, okay?!” he said, his curls a messy heap on his head, his eyes wild.

He looked on the verge of a full breakdown as you stared, in shock at the whole thing. He’d been fine a few seconds ago, what the hell had happened? “Lando, I didn’t-,” you started, raising your hands almost in surrender.

“I don’t care, I don’t care, Y/N!” he covered his ears, “Just fuck off!”. You said nothing, swallowing the lump in your throat as you stumbled back, away from the glassy heap on the floor, and rushing away from the garage. You’d never seen Lando break down before.

Was he…Was he okay?

[mistresscitrusslice]

Thank you so much for going through the effort to even get screenshots! It’s seriously appreciated.

You make a good point, not least of which because this circle looks like a blast zone that came from within. It even pushed other bodies away. I’ve never seen Kindred gameplay, idk what their protective powers look like, but generally spells that are cast on you by someone else use the caster as the center of the spell, not the target. (Basically, the blast circle wouldn’t have been centered on Ambessa, but on the Wolf.)

The protected area around Mel and Jayce when they wake up doesn’t look like a blast zone the way it did with Ambessa (other than, you know, the Actual Bomb), so I’m not sure what to make of that.

I did not know that Ambessa had a bio already, let alone that included stuff from her music video! I thought she just had her blurb. It’s great that they clarified who she was pregnant with eventually. Uh, where’s Kino while she’s out at war then??? I imagine that Kino’s father was probably also a soldier and in the army too. Hopefully Kino was with relatives or family friends.

Also, Rokrund! It’s nice to get a name for the specific region Ambessa is from other than just the wider nation of Noxus. Is this a new name we’re hearing or has it appeared in any other League lore/media before?

“Visions that she would speak of to few others.” I wonder who those few are. Given how she treats her children, I cannot trust that even her kids are among these few. Their dad, maybe? I hesitate to say “Ambessa’s husband” because she definitely does not act like she has a husband, or maybe he’s deceased.

I plead the fifth on the Solari stuff because I know jack shit about the Solari, and if it turns out that Mel does have Solari magic, I do want to be surprised by their lore.

It still puzzles me why, if she does have magic, she wouldn’t use it to defend herself. You mentioned it being linked to situations with certain death. I’m iffy on this because it feels convoluted and kind of like a cop-out if that really is the reason can’t use it at will. If it is the case, though, then maybe Viktor wasn’t hurt because his magic clashed with hers, but because his death wasn’t guaranteed. I rewatched the opening scene, and he was still moving a little when Jayce performed Hexcore magic on him. If his death wasn’t certain, then the magic had no need to save him.

More likely, Mel’s magic has a cooldown and a long period where she needs to build enough magic back up to be able to use, but most likely, Mel doesn’t even know she has magic. There’s no sense in concealing her magic now, especially not after it saved herself and Jayce. Sure, it’d be a bad idea to come out about it to the world even after Piltover accepted Hextech since it would’ve been a secret for so long. However, I do believe she would’ve told Jayce. If not before, then definitely after it saved the two of them and Viktor still almost died.

Jayce needs as much information as he can get to figure out what’s going on with Viktor. Mel cares a lot about Jayce and seems to also care for Viktor even if she disagreed with him last season. She also has the same innate curiosity that Jayce and Viktor do. She’d want him to be able to solve this puzzle with all the information at his disposal and has been able to open up to him in the past with the trust that he would not share her secrets. She’d tell him so that they could figure out why her magic didn’t work as it was supposed to.

Unless there’s a reason we haven’t been told for why she needs to keep this hidden? If you squint your ears real hard, her line of “There’s no sense to these things, Jayce” in response to “How does the explosion do that to him and I just walk out without a scratch” sounds a bit like she’s trying to get him to drop the subject. After all, there is sense to these things for a scientist. There’s physics and calculations that go into why every single piece of debris falls in the way that it does. Which direction it flies in, how much heat is dispersed, the shock absorption in everything and every person in the blast radius, how far each person gets pushed across the room. To Jayce, “there’s no sense” might not be a comforting thing to hear. So was Mel just trying and failing to comfort him or was she attempting to change the subject? Or am I just reading too much into it?

Lmao imagine tho if Jayce found out she has magic, whether she already knew or not. He’d want to study her! And honestly she’d probably be down for it to find out even more ways to use her powers, maybe a way to replicate it with Hextech so more people can have a way to stay safe! That would actually be a good way to use Hextech to help people. And maybe Mel just has a scientist kink, who knows

Mel's protection should have saved Viktor too, and she's trying to figure out why it didn't

S2 ep1 shows a circle of protected stone where Mel and Jayce were during the explosion. My theory is that Mel's magic armor activated and saved them both. It seems like it casts a sphere of protection around wherever Mel is.

The center of this circle is not Mel's seat - it's Jayce's. She ran to Jayce to save him.

No other Councilors were in range of Mel's protection, so they all got hurt or killed.

But Viktor was, Jayce's words, "right next to" him. He was easily within Mel's circle of protection.

1) Viktor tried to run and mistakenly left the circle of protection. But are we meant to believe that Viktor, close to dying already and using a crutch, would have outrun Mel?

2) Viktor's augmented body clashes with Mel's

Why does Mel try to touch Viktor in episode 1? It seems like a throwaway moment, but not even Jayce touches him in this scene. So why Mel?

She's curious. And possibly, feeling responsible. She's wondering why her protection didn't work.

Is this Hexcore brand of the Arcane trying to reach out to Mel? Or trying to defend itself from her?

Mel was trying to protect both Jayce and Viktor, which is reflected in how she holds Jayce as well as Viktor's cane when she promises to protect Hextech:

But if, for example, Mel's magic is Solari in origin, and Viktor's is from the Void - or the Arcane equivalent of similar opposing forces - then it's possible that their magic rejects or hurts one another. So Mel's circle of protection either rejected Viktor, or was what hurt Viktor, and not the explosion.

[ayrtonswnna]

hello there!

Can I request a Franco x reader? But where Ayrton Senna is alive in this universe and the reader is Senna? If not, then fine. It's up to you. Thanks in advance 😊😊

ʚɞ a/n: that is my moment!!!!!!!! i often imagine how would it be to have ayrton in contemporary scenarios it's unhealthy lol. i really think he'd be full of jokes and a fun guy just like he was off track. thanks for the request, it was a real nice one to write! (and if anyone has any senna request, i'll be more tham happy to take it! (i'm even willing to write stuff with senna himself))

ʚïɞ "you got me good" FC43

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀↳ masterlist ↳ drop a request! ↳ more franco fluff!

✧₊⁺ franco colapinto x cecília senna (senna!female oc)

✧₊⁺ word count: 1,6k⠀⠀⠀⠀✧₊⁺, gender: crack, fluff.

✧₊⁺ summary: franco and cecília kept a secret relationship and when they decide to come clean, her father was ahead of it and he's a total menace.

✧₊⁺ warnings: alternative universe where that may 1th 1994 didn't happen and ayrton grew old like he deserved to, my hyper focus on that man shown in references, a bit of portuguese properly translated, kinda short and poorly contextualized, curse words, franco is a baby, just soft and light content for the win.

"What do you mean he doesn't know about it?"

Franco took a deep breath, massaging his own scalp as his friend and co-worker continued talking, a mix of excitement and judgment in his words.

"You are not making this any better," he mouthed.

"You are dating his daughter! You are da-ting. The man's daughter. Like... The man's daughter. The hell haven't you met her family!?"

"I am scared, okay!? If I get rejected by her family... It's not just my girlfriend's family. It's simply Senna himself! Should I what!? Drop the job? Hide in a cave?"

Alex laughed, the words and the tone easing the tension. The guy was worried to death and things might be simpler than he thought. Everyone knew Senna was a fun person.

Dating Cecília Senna felt almost like marrying into royalty. It's a good feeling, though. Bagging Cecília Senna could easily be added to one of Franco's big achievements — and he's a former F2 driver called in last minute to fill a Formula One seat — and he's doing great.

But still, it's Cecília Senna, the only child of a legend, someone he looked up to growing up, someone he saw in the paddock many times before ending up in his daughter's sheets.

"Hello, everyone!"

God, his heart might have dropped to the floor just now. The retired driver walked into the garage happily, with his daughter attached to his arm and waving familiarly.

Everyone gathered around them immediately, though Cecília's eyes instantly met Franco's. She knew he was scared and had made fun of him until she couldn't anymore, teasing him in every way she could.

"I've heard the news on the Argentinian! You guys are lucky you got away easily!"

Alright, it's time to pray. What news? That he's fucking his daughter? That they meet every week? That she wanted a Williams' box pass so badly just because of him? Or... That they hid it from everyone just to gain a bit more time?

"We got quality, mate! That's it." Vowels took his cue to fill in the blank, the people dispersing and going back to their work. "Found the kid sparring and made him a beast."

"Yeah, of course," the Brazilian laughed. "What's up, buddy! Feeling the pressure?"

Franco mentally cursed Cecília for raising her eyebrows and doubling the meaning of the question, but he managed to stand up and dry his sweaty hands on his pants.

"I try not to, honestly. Not... think about it a lot," he said, feeling he could have worded the sentence a bit better as they shook hands.

"That's the spirit! I heard a lot about you, little man. Do you know my daughter? Cecília?"

Tricky question. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Tricky question.

If he had heard about it, then he knew about them. Franco could say "yes" and end up with a lecture, or say "no" and be caught in a lie.

"You guys think you are smart, huh? Fooling around, hiding from cameras..."

Oh, it's over. It's over for him. The "drop the job and hide in a cave" plan was almost running in his veins right now. Maybe he should Sebastian Vettel his way around, retire early, and move to a countryside home in Switzerland. Yes, that's a good plan.

"Pai... Para com isso." Cecília shoved her dad's side, rolling her eyes. (Dad... Stop that.)

"What? You guys thought you got away with it?"

"Pai! Ele tá ficando sem graça!" she insisted. (Dad! He's getting uncomfortable!)

Franco thought of speaking up, but the nerves were all up and maybe he should let it be.

"Yeah! He should!" Ayrton still had a serious look on his face, making Franco shiver.

"Pai, sério." (Dad, I'm serious.)

"Sir, I know it—"

"Come on, Franquinho! I'm fooling around, take that scared look off your face!" In a matter of seconds, Ayrton's grin turned into a playful smile, and his arm was hooked over Franco's shoulder, messing up his hair and leaving him even more confused. "Did I scare you? You should have seen your eyes!"

Franco laughed, still a bit dulled. That was a big one.

"You're a bastard," Cecília rolled her eyes once again, aware of the father she had.

The man was a natural jokester, full of little jokes and loved making uncomfortable scenarios in the name of fun. He was a handful.

"And you guys should have told me about this before! You lost it all, Franquinho. Angra, the travels... You need to be introduced to the family!"

He had heard about Angra; the beach house Cecília went to every now and then, how much she and her father loved the place. He even saw an old interview where Ayrton said that his retirement plans included being "Angra's nature inspector."

"Yeah- Yeah, sim." Franco risked some Portuguese, patting Ayrton on the back before they both stepped apart. "Sorry for... for taking too long to meet you, I was- Damn, you got me good."

"I could see!" Senna didn't waste a single laugh. "Don't worry, little boy. You're a good investment. And Cecília is pretty happy, so... you got my support."

"I'm even happier to hear it." Franco chuckled. "Thank you, very much. Your daughter also makes me really happy."

"Of course! Her bad jokes make everyone laugh." Ayrton kept the teasing going. "Now you better show me some racing! I've been in your place and to keep the daughter you need to be as good as dad!"

"You should have seen your face, baby!"

Franco glanced at his girlfriend as he turned his head, their first alone time since the morning's humiliation session.

"I don't wanna talk about it," he mouthed, shirt off and focus switching. "That was traumatizing."

"I told you he's a clown." Her shoulders went up a bit. "But he wasn't lying at the end! He likes you!"

"I got that part. Now I know where you got that dark humor from." The blue-eyed boy stood in the middle of his room, hands on his waist as he let his girlfriend use her eyes.

"What can I say? I am my father's daughter." She smiled mischievously. "He wants you to spend some time, though. Before Vegas, maybe?"

"I could've Max Verstappen my way around and have stayed for the week... But we waited until your dad could scare me to death in the middle of the box so... Yeah, it can be next week." He started simple, voice steady.

But then Cecília approached and her hands liked to touch. All over his torso while she traced a good way for his hair.

"You ain't seen nothing yet." The smile was still on her face, lips coming closer and closer to his. "But I am really happy, you know? Now we can just be and enjoy some time... I can take you to Angra, and I don't need to hide in your driver's room. I was done with pretending I was investing in Williams just so I had a reason to watch the races here."

"Told you about it... You could afford my seat."

Another joke. Ever since he got into F1 as an emergency call, she did say she only had to call her dad and his 2025 seat would be secured.

"You're gonna get it because you deserve it, I am not affording that." She flashed her eyelashes, rimming a single syllable as his hands also started to travel.

Inside her expensive shirt, up and down her back in good pressure before they found room at her waist.

"You know what else I deserve?"

"You freak! Go shower and I'll be waiting for you outside. My dad is around!"

It took them no time. Within weeks, Ayrton and Franco became partners in crime, and suddenly, Cecília was having a taste of her own medicine.

"Turn it off! Now!" Ayrton whispered in a screaming tone, the last signal Franco needed before turning off the power for the whole house.

Cecília had just come back from the beach and Franco finally knew the Angra house. It was dark, and the prank was not very well planned.

"Porra." (Shit.) they heard the Brazilian swearing. "Que inferno, de novo? PAAAAI?" (What the hell, again? DAAAAD?)

He knew some words in Portuguese and it only made it funnier. Him and his father-in-law were hiding in the small laundry room as Cecília searched for them.

"Ready, kid?"

"No, but I'll do it anyways."

"Good kid. You're a great one." The old man, as a new custom, messed with the Argentinian's hair, before opening the door and waiting for him to leave.

"Eu juro, se vocês estiverem armando pra cima de mim eu— Ah— FRANCO! NO!" (I swear, if you guys are planning something against me I—)

He's fast even with his limited knowledge about the furniture in the house, walking in the dark before he could lift her and throw her over his shoulder.

It's the fourth time she's thrown in the pool and she just knows it's her father opening the glass door for the exterior area before she's sinking in cold water.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ALL!" Cecília screamed. "I JUST WASHED MY HAIR! OH MY GOD! PUTTING YOU TWO TOGETHER WAS THE WORST THING I EVER DID!"

"Não reclama, princesinha..." (Don't you complain, little princess...) her father played, now standing besides her boyfriend. "Bate aqui, you passed the test. Welcome to the family." (High five,)

"I hate you guys. Eu odeio vocês, los odio. Whatever. Don't ever talk to me again." Cecília stomped her way out of the pool, walking straight past them.

"Don't get mad, baby... It's just a joke!"

"Well, boy... It's your girlfriend. Go ease her nerves. You're called Colapinto for a reason."

ʚïɞ ayrtonswnna, 2024. check my masterlist or drop a request (: reblogs and feedback are always welcome (:

[wonderjanga]

Code-Switching

Billy code-switches every now and then and doesn’t even realize it.

Marvel: *talking in his normal voice to Mary*

Reporter: *pops out of nowhere with a camera man behind her* “Captain Marvel we’d like to discuss with you today about the recent incident with Sivana.”

Marvel: *almost immediately switches to a transatlantic accent* “Of course!”

Reporter: *almost gets whiplash from how fast he switched* “Right, well could you fill us in on the details?”

Marvel: “Sure I can.” *starts talking with the accent and even using old-timey lingo*

Reporter: *walked away from the interview only knowing barely half of what happened cause she could barely understand half of the things he said*

Fawcitizens: “Ah yes. I see.” *understood perfectly*

The reporter wasn’t originally from Fawcett and came after to time bubble so she could get the latest scoops on Marvel.

or

Marvel: *comforting an abused kid with the absolute kindest and most compassionate look on his face*

Abused Kid: *crying*

Marvel: *picks kid up and gives them to their mom and heads over to the Abusive Dad*

Abusive Dad: “What’re you looking at, asshole?!”

Marvel: *kind ahh smile immediately fades and proceeds to promise to do the most torturous and gruesome things to the man*

Police: *look away like the aren’t hearing a thing*

Marvel: *looks back to the kid and is smiling again. Gives the kid a little wave*

or

He was under the effects of a magic spell that was supposed to mimic the effect of being drugged.

Marvel: *nearly passed out on the floor, family guy style*

Flash: “Oh my god!” *rushes over and leans down, shaking Marvel a lot* “Cap, are you okay?!”

Marvel: *thinks Wally is Freddy and frog blinks at him, annoyance crossing his face at being shaken* “Freddy, get the fuck offa me.” *literally puts his hand on Flash’s face and pushes it away*

Flash: *a little gobsmacked cause he’s never heard Marvel curse before* “Wha-”

Marvel: “Now, get outta here. Or I’ll beat you.” *shakes his fist at him before making a dismissive gesture with his hand* “Shoo shoo.” *promptly passes out*

Flash: *doesn't know how to feel about the friendliest guy he knows telling him he’ll beat him* “Alright buddy.” *helps him up and makes the long trek to a zeta tube so he can get Marvel to the medbay*

When Marvel woke up…

Flash: “Cap, you’re awake! Are you feeling better now?”

Marvel: *sits up in the cot he’s in* “Uh… yeah I’m fine.”

Flash: “You sure…? Cause, I mean, you were saying some pretty interesting stuff back there.”

Marvel: “What stuff? Did I say something weird?” *praying to the gods that he didn’t accidentally reveal his identity*

Flash: “Kinda?”

*silence*

Flash: “Yousaidyou’dbeatme.” *says super fast*

Marvel: “WHAT?” *sounds horrified* “Oh my Gods, I’m so sorry?!”

Flash: “It’s fine! It’s fine! It’s just who in the world is Freddy? And what did he do to warrant you telling him that you’d beat him for stopping you from trying to sleep??”

Marvel: “Uh…” *doesn’t really have much of an excuse other than that’s just how Freddy and him talk to each other*

Billy spent the rest of the day avoiding Flash’s questions.

[eph3merall]

toxic!ex!matt + a sprinkle of mean!matt . . .

cw ; slapping

—

matt is a... nice person. you know this, he knows this. he doesn't get mad too easily, keeping his calm almost all the time when anyone ticks him off. at least, that's what you thought. it never occurred to you how toxic the man was, leaving him after finding girls' contacts on his phone and some of the toxic shit he's done.

but, it always confused you how matt never seemed to care when you officially announced to him you two were done. it was like he just didn't care at all, after it took you so long to muster up the courage to even confront him about it. matt was shrugging and chewing on the toothpick in his mouth, as you huff in frustration and throw a few more curses in his direction.

you eventually got all your stuff and ended up crashing at your friends' house for a little. she was happy to have you anyways, not having seen eachother in awhile as you talked to her for hours about everything. in the end, she wasn't surprised that matt was a douche bag. maybe you aren't exactly surprised either—but he was a good boyfriend... kind of. but, if everything else wasn't good with him, the sex definitely was.

maybe it's why you find yourself outside matt's door. you're upset. pissed off and annoyed. matt always knew how to calm that storm down, and maybe you just needed him without realizing. your first instinct was to just go to him, yet you weren't even sure why. he was an asshole in the relationship.

when you find yourself in his room, matt is rolling his eyes when you start rambling on and on about whatever the fuck. you always talked a shit ton. that never really did change about you—but you looked.. more glowy. like you were doing better. a lot better.

when you kept droning on about something probably about him, matt is just sighing and sliding his hand into your hair. patting your head and then his hand comes up to pat your cheek a few times. "shut up." before his hand slapped your cheek gently—shock forming across your features as the sting starts from the harsh impact. you blink and turn your head to glare at matt, even though it did distract you from everything you were so worried about.

it's why matt has you on your knees between his legs, a hand cradling your face as you whine gently. he knows you. god, he knows you so well that he knows just how to get you to stop yapping your ass off. maybe you needed it too, with how much anxiety had wrapped around your entire body.

"shh, y'got it. doin' real good, baby," matt is cooing at you so gently, you forget that he's your ex. that you probably shouldn't even be here right now, for both of your sakes. but you can't help the way your cheek leans into the palm of his hand, warm and inviting. his eyes glance at your pitiful fucking expression, his free hand slapping you across the face gently.

sometimes, matt doesn't feel like making you suck his dick when you get too pissed off. so, he'll settle on this, or some other tactic to get you to shut your mouth. even after you two have broken off, some things just never change. and, in some way, matt kind of hates how well he knows you as he lands another slap across your pretty lil' face. "i got you, baby. i always got ya. don't gotta worry that head off anymore."

—

inspired from a thought i posted idk how long ago

@conspiracy-ash @sturniolosfavkayleigh @lvrsturniolo @st7rnioioss @meatballlover10 @ashlishes @ferdzom @55sturn @chriseatingmeoutin4k @unknvhx @mattslolita

©eph3merall 2024

[salemrph]

"A Hunter's Christmas Hustle" Sylus x MC

Summary: With Christmas around the corner, you’re on a mission to find the perfect gift for everyone, that's included Sylus, a famously tricky person to shop for. You asked for help but can the twins really help you? Sometimes the effort is the best part of the holiday magic.

Character: MC x Sylus

Genre: holiday comedy, slice-of-life, fluff | Pet names : Kitten, Sweetie, Miss Hunter.

| Word count: 3.916 | Reading Time: 16 min |

A/N: Since this is the first Christmas of Love and Deepspace, at least for me, I'm looking forward for a special Event and have a cute moment between Sylus and MC.

You lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. It still feels a bit strange staying at Sylus’ place on your days off. Well, it was mostly his doing— he’d insist or come up with some random excuse or side mission to make you stay. So, at the end you agree to come visit him without needing to drag you in dirty business. It's cozy here, even if you’re not quite used to it yet.

Like always you scroll through your phone, noticing you getting a lot of Christmas ads. You squint at the screen, feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the holiday promotions. Suddenly, you glance at the date on your phone. Fuck! Christmas in 1 week. And you haven’t prepared anything. Weren’t there also a Party coming up with the team? No, no, no! You go trough the calendar. There is it: 24 of December. Christmas Party with Team.

You need to go shopping, ordering stuff now would only arrive too late. 

“Okay, okay,” you mutter, trying to make a mental checklist. “I need a present for Tera, flowers for Grandma’s and Clab’s graves...” You pause, feeling a bit emotional at that thought. You take a deep breath and continue, making a list out loud.

“Then there’s Zayne, Xavier, and Rafayel…” Your head starts spinning as you realize just how much you have to do. 

How could you forget? Have you really been that busy lately? It’s not like the whole city isn’t decked out in lights, giant Christmas ads, and festive music playing in every store. 

You realize with a sigh that maybe you’ve been spending way too much time in the N109 Zone, far from the holiday cheer.

“What can I get for the twins...?” you mumble to yourself. Luke and Kieran can be annoying sometimes, but you do like them. Why not bring them a small gift? Then again, you hesitate. If you get something for the twins, Sylus will definitely bother you about it until the end of your days, asking why he didn’t get anything. You're starting to sweat. Maybe he locks you up again in the basement, just for fun. Or worse, he could show up at the Hunters' Association and declare that you are his lover or something. A shiver runs down your spine. This man can be terrifying. 

You know very well how to please your friends and colleagues but Sylus… What do you bring to the man that has everything? 

“Why is he even so fucking rich?” you mutter under your breath, looking around the guest room. The guest room of course has the style of the rest of the mansion. Black. You roll your eyes, feeling a mix of annoyance and admiration. You flop back down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it holds the answers. You need something unique, something meaningful... but what could that be? 

You scroll through your phone frantically, searching for bundles, deals, and last-minute gift ideas. In just an hour, you’ve managed to check off most of your list.

Tera: A relaxing spa voucher—she could use a break.

Zayne: A pack of his favorite macarons, winter edition—he’ll love them.

Xavier: A cozy new sweater—you’ve told him a million times not to fall asleep everywhere. You sigh, picturing him dozing off on some random spot.

Rafayel: A unique shell you found on a mission weeks ago. You haven’t had a chance to give it to him yet, but now’s the perfect time.

Flowers: Ordered, check.

You tap your phone, thinking about the twins, Luke and Kieran. What would they like? You decide on some kind of gadget or toy—they’re like two overgrown kids sometimes, and they’ll appreciate anything they can mess around with.

Another hour passes, and you’re still glued to your phone, opening and closing tabs like a mad person. Your brain is starting to fog up from the overload of gift ideas.

“No... no... lame... oh god, definitely not.” You swipe through a blog about gifts for wealthy people and somehow end up on a page titled “Top 10 Gifts for Your Rich Boyfriend.” Your cheeks go bright red as you skim the list: sexy underwear, romantic getaways, candlelit dinners...

“NO!” You throw your phone onto the bed like it’s on fire, covering your face with your hands. What am I even doing?

You take a deep breath, trying to calm down. Maybe you could ask Luke and Kieran for help. They’re close to Sylus and probably know more about his preferences than you do. Plus, he did say you could “use” them whenever you wanted. Why not use them as counselors and pack mules?

Since you don`t want Sylus sniffing around you, you think about a small lie. Or maybe just ask without giving information. The same way he always does 

...

"I need Luke & Kieran for an important mission, can you borrow me them?"

Sylus looks up from his desk, his red eyes studying you with a mix of curiosity and amusement. He leans back in his chair, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he regards you. 

"Mission? What are you planning, kitten?" Sylus raises an eyebrow at your words.

"Nothing… jus- they will come back in one piece."

He studies you for a moment, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. He seems to be enjoying your vague and cryptic request, and he's clearly intrigued by what you might be up to. 

"…Alright. You can take them for whatever this 'important mission' is. But they better come back in one piece, or I'm holding you responsible, sweetie. And you don't want to pay the price...“ he snaps his fingers. Both appear immediately. As if they had been hiding in the office. 

"Luke, Kieran, the kitten needs you for a... mission. Do as they say. I expect impeccable work."

"Yes, boss!“ They say in unison.

"Let’s go, guys." I lead them out of the office. "See you, Sylus!"

That was easy. Maybe to easy.

He laughs after the door closes. Wondering how you're going to surprise him this time. He's learned to just go with the flow even though he might have the answer to your little secrets. He just smiled, turning back to focus on his paperwork.

“What are we going to do, miss?” Luke asks with a mischievous grin.

You roll your eyes. “I told you, just call me by my name.”

“Are we blowing something up?” Kieran blurts out, making an exaggerated explosion noise with his mouth.

“Or… cleaning up a messy murder scene?” Luke chimes in, smirking.

“Maybe torture someone!” Kieran’s eyes light up, clearly getting way too excited at the thought.

You sigh, regretting this decision already. They’re like two hyperactive hamsters—deadly, but still hamsters.

“No, no, and no!” you say firmly, waving your hands for emphasis.

“Uuuhhh...” They groan in unison, visibly disappointed.

“We have a better mission,” you declare, crossing your arms. “Change into something decent. We’re heading back to Lincoln City.”

Finally, you’ve arrived in the city. It’s strange seeing them without their usual uniforms and masks. Dressed in casual clothes, they look more like model college boys than the deadly assassins they actually are. Most of the girls passing by can’t help but glance their way, clearly debating whether they should approach the handsome twin brothers.

You snort to yourself. Probably they would’ve attracted less attention in their usual assassin gear.

You’re standing in the middle of the bustling shopping district, the holiday decorations casting a festive glow around you. Luke and Kieran are busy taking in the sights, clearly amused by the sudden change of scenery. You clear your throat to get their attention.

“Alright, listen up,” you say, trying to sound authoritative. “The mission is...” They lean in, eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Shopping” you declare.

“Shopping?” they repeat in unison, voices filled with disbelief.

Luke looks like he’s trying not to laugh, while Kieran’s expression twists into mock horror.

“Wait, wait,” Kieran says, holding up a hand. “You dragged us all the way out here... for shopping?”

“Yes, and you’re going to help me,” you reply.

Luke smirks, giving you a playful nudge. “You sure this isn’t just an excuse to spend time with us, Miss?”

You shoot him a glare. “Call me by my name, Luke.”

“Right, right,” he says, grinning.

“I actually need your help for...” you trail off, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed. You look away, rubbing the back of your neck. “Christmas is around the corner, and I wanted to buy Sylus something. I’m not sure what it should be, so...” 

Before you can finish, Luke and Kieran burst into giggle. They exchange a quick, knowing glance, clearly delighted by your admission.

“Oh, so you want to buy our boss a present, huh? That’s pretty cute” Luke teases, smirking.

Kieran nudges him with his elbow, grinning from ear to ear. “And you’re asking us for help? Luke, maybe she does have a soft spot for boss after all.”

You feel your cheeks flush, but you roll your eyes to cover it. “Are you two going to help me or not?”

Luke straightens up, placing a hand on his chest with a mock-serious expression. “If you’re serious about buying a gift for the boss, then you’ve definitely come to the right place. We don’t call ourselves his right-hand men for nothing.”

You exhale, feeling a bit relieved now that they seem genuinely eager to help. “I want something special. Something he wouldn’t expect, but that he’d actually like.”

Kieran tilts his head, pretending to think deeply. “Something unexpected, huh? Well, that’s tricky. Sylus pretty much has everything.”

“Yeah, exactly,” you say, feeling a bit helpless. “I was thinking about getting him some records, but he already has so many...”

Luke and Kieran nod in agreement, their expressions thoughtful. 

“It’s a good start. He does love his music. But you don’t want to give him something he already has, right?” Luke asked. 

“How about something more personal?” Kieran suggests, tapping his chin. “Something that shows you put a lot of thought into it. A gift only you could give him.”

You bite your lip, considering it. “Personal... but how?”

“Well, it doesn’t have to be anything fancy,” Luke says, shrugging. “The boss isn’t as complicated as he looks. He’d appreciate anything that comes from you.”

Kieran gives a playful smirk. “You could just wrap yourself up with a bow, and he’d be over the moon.”

“Kieran!” you gasp, your cheeks turning red as you lightly smack his arm. He laughs, dodging away with a wink. 

Luke chuckles but gives you a more genuine smile. “He’s joking—mostly. But seriously, boss isn’t the kind of guy who cares about expensive gifts. He’d value something that reminds him of you, or a shared memory.”

You pause, mulling it over.

Kieran nudges Luke, a sudden spark lighting up his eyes. “Hey, what about that old record shop on the Avenue? They’ve got vintage records you can’t find anywhere else. You could look for a rare one, maybe something with a story behind it.”

Luke nods, his eyes brightening as well. “Yeah, and you could pair it with a handwritten note. Tell him why you picked it. He’d love that.”

You smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. “That’s... actually a great idea. Thanks, you two.”

Kieran gives you a thumbs-up. “No problem, but you owe us for this.”

Luke grins. “Yeah, and don’t forget to give us the credit when he’s showering you with kisses later.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Fine, fine. Now let’s go before I change my mind.”

The twins laugh, and the three of you set off down the busy shopping street, feeling a new wave of excitement. Maybe this gift hunt wasn’t going to be so impossible after all.

In the end, you managed to buy everything for your friends—even for Captain Jenna, who isn’t exactly easy to shop for. But as you wandered through the record store, flipping through album after album, nothing stood out. Everything felt generic, impersonal. And you know Sylus well enough to realize that giving him something half-hearted would just fuel his endless teasing for weeks. 

By the end of the day, the twins delivered you at home after treating them for dinner. You're tired and leave all your bags in the living room of your apartment. You throw yourself down on the couch and take out your phone. Maybe you were overthinking this. A nice accessory or a bottle of whiskey could work—he has a taste for the finer things, after all. It wouldn’t be anything cheap, either; you can afford something like that with your Hunter salary.

The day passes, only 2 days for Christmas and you still have nothing. 

Desperate for ideas, you even tried bringing it up with Tera over lunch. That turned into a chaotic disaster, though. It was exhausting dodging her barrage of questions:

“Who’s the gift for? Why are you even so worried? Wait, do you have a new boyfriend? I demand to meet him!”

You had to laugh it off, making up half-baked excuses until she finally dropped it—though you could tell she didn’t believe you.

And then there was Sylus himself. Yesterday, he sent you an invitation to a Christmas dinner. You wanted to say yes, but you had already committed to the Hunters’ Association Christmas party that same night. You tried to decline, but after some back-and-forth, you reluctantly agreed to meet him afterward.

Now, sitting alone on the couch, you can’t help but replay that conversation in your mind. The way his voice softened when you said you couldn’t make it, the slight pause before he insisted on seeing you later anyway—it made your chest tighten. He sounded almost... disappointed. And that’s what makes you want to find something truly meaningful, something that will show him how much he means to you without you having to say it out loud.

You look at your reflection in the darkened screen of your phone, feeling a mix of frustration and anticipation. You’re running out of time. If you’re going to surprise him with something from the heart, you need to figure it out now.

With a new sense of determination, you push yourself off the couch and grab your coat. Maybe you won’t find the perfect gift sitting around here. It’s time to get back out there and keep looking, because if there’s one person you want to make smile this Christmas, it’s Sylus. But be honest, you´re not going to admit that. Not yet. 

...

It’s Christmas! The party with your unit is small but cozy. The space is filled with the warm glow of twinkling lights, the scent of spiced wine, and the sound of laughter echoing off the walls. You drink, you eat, and you feel a rare sense of contentment as you watch everyone enjoying the night. It’s moments like these that remind you why you love this chaotic, ragtag team.

The gifts you bought last minute seem to have gone over well. Captain Jenna grinned when she unwrapped the sleek new knife you picked out for her—a practical gift, just like she’d like it. Xavier looked genuinely pleased with the soft, oversized sweater you chose, already pulling it on and joking about how he wouldn’t fall asleep everywhere now. Tera hugged you tight, eyes sparkling as she held up the spa voucher. “You really do know me,” she said with a teasing smile.

Earlier in the morning, you made a quick stop by the hospital to drop off the bag of special winter-edition macarons for Zayne. And you place the flower on the graveyard. Pray for them and wishing that you could spent one more day with them.

You glance at your watch. It’s getting late, and you promised Sylus you’d meet him after this. You take a deep breath, excusing yourself quietly from the party. Tera shoots you a knowing look as you head for the door, but she doesn’t say anything—just gives you a little wave, as if to say, good luck. 

You pull your coat tighter around yourself, clutching the gift in your hand as you start walking. There’s a mixture of excitement and fear bubbling up inside you.

Suddenly your watch vibrates urgently and flashes a warning: MetaFlux Fluctuation Detected. Your heart skips a beat. A Wanderer? Now?! You glance around, scanning the quiet street for any signs of danger. The distant sound of a woman’s scream breaks the silence, and without hesitation, you sprint in the direction of the noise, already reaching for your weapon. 

The first Wanderer lunges out from the shadows, its distorted form shifting and writhing in the dim light. You don’t waste a second. One precise shot, and it disintegrates into a cloud of shimmering dust.

„My child! Where is he?“ the woman cries out, panic in her voice. You look around fast, this is not over. 

„Mom!! Help!“ You hear the voice of the kid nearby and run over. You bolt towards the sound, pushing your legs harder. You reach the boy just in time, shielding him with your body as another Wanderer lunges forward. The creature’s claws slice through the air, narrowly missing you. You fire three quick shots, each one hitting its mark. The Wanderer lets out a guttural screech before it vanishes into thin air, dissolving into the night.

"Are you okay?“ you ask, your voice softer now, concerned. The boy nodded. His mother rushes over, wrapping her arms around him and thanking you over and over, her voice thick with emotion.

The mother and child thank you from the bottom of their hearts before leaving. You tell them to please stop by the hospital, just in case. You wave goodbye to the boy. Sigh. What a night!

"Where's my bag?" you mutter, scanning the area. You spot it lying on the ground, right where you dropped it before sprinting into action. Relief floods through you—until you notice the dark, wet stain spreading across the fabric. 

"No, no, no! Please no," you whisper, crouching down and unzipping the bag with trembling hands. The bottle of whiskey you were hunting down the last two days. Is shattered in thousand pieces.

Your heart sinks. This wasn’t just any whiskey—it was a rare, vintage bottle from a small distillery he’d mentioned once, in passing, when he thought you weren’t listening.

„Fuck!" 

You stand up, clutching the soaked bag, and check the time on your watch.

22:30.

You’re supposed to meet Sylus in half an hour, and you’re still a good fifteen minutes away from his place. Panic bubbles up inside you. Maybe you can find a late-night shop that carries something similar. Maybe there’s still a chance to fix this.

"I can make it," you say aloud, more to convince yourself than anything.

…

You finally arrive at the meeting point—a lookout near the water. It’s the same place where you spent last winter with him, watching the fireworks together.

“Kitten, you told me you were at a party, not a battlefield. What happened?”

“Eh?”

You’ve been running around for the last 30 minutes trying to find that stupid bottle and make it on time to meet Sylus. A little embarrassed, you attempt to fix your clothes and smooth your hair. Your cheeks are flushed from the effort. Sylus stands there in his black coat, looking amazing as always. Your heart beats hard in your chest. He watches you, trying to piece together what happened, and then a smile tugs at his lips.

“Even on days like this, you don’t get a break, Miss Hunter?” He runs his hand gently across your face. You flinch slightly, wincing in pain. “You’ve got a small cut. So... are you going to tell me what happened?”

“Nothing, just a Wanderer. It will heal,” you say with a shrug. He sighs softly.

“Careless as usual.” He pulls a small band-aid from his pocket. “Stay still.”

“Why do you have something like that?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“It so happens that I have a kitten who never pays attention to their injuries,” he teases.

You make an exaggerated offended grimace, but inside, it feels like a small gesture of affection. He places the band-aid gently over the cut.

“I’ll consider this your Christmas gift,” you joke.

He laughs. “Oh no, sweetie, that wouldn’t be enough. But I’m impressed with your minimalist idea of happiness.” He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out an envelope.

“You didn’t have...”

“Open it up. And thank me later.”

You take the envelope cautiously, slowly peeling it open. Could it explode? You shake your head at the silly thought. When you finally look inside, your eyes widen, and you let out a soft squeal of excitement.

“Are you for real? This tickets has been sold out for months. How did you…?”

“I have my ways, sweetie,” he replies with a smug smile.

“Thank you,” you whisper, genuinely touched.

“It’s always a pleasure making you happy.”

But your excitement fades quickly as the realization sinks in. He’s managed to make you immensely happy again, while you stand here empty-handed. You have been looking for the perfect gift and you have screwed up at the last minute. On top, you haven't found a replacement for the bottle. 

"I wanted to give you something too for Christmas...“ you started. Closing the envelope and putting it in your pocket. "but... it broke while I was protecting a kid from a Wanderer.“ You look down at your feet, feeling small and pathetic, your shoulders slumping under the weight of disappointment.

There’s a beat of silence, and then Sylus gently lifts your chin with a finger, guiding your gaze back to him. He smiles, that soft, understanding smile that always makes you feel seen. Without a word, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a warm embrace. The chill of winter seems to disappear in his hold, replaced by the comforting heat of his body.

“The best gift is having you by my side, kitten.” he whispers into your ear, his voice low and sincere.

You feel your heart beating faster.

"Actions speak louder than words"

You agree with Sylus that both would be more honest with each other. Maybe now is the time to show him just how important he is to you. You spent so much time looking for something to buy that you forgot that the simplest gifts are often the most meaningful, especially when they come straight from the heart.

"Sylus… I actually have something else."

"Oh, is that so?“ 

„Can... I borrow your face?" He loosens his grip slightly and steps back, taking your hands in his, warming them up. He looks at you, amused and curious, and leans down.

"Close your eyes..." you whisper. He doesn’t say anything but does as you ask, his smile softening as he relaxes his face. You take a deep breath, feeling your heart race, each beat echoing louder in your chest.

The world falls silent for a moment—it's just the two of you, suspended in time. The anticipation tingles through you as you lean closer, closing the distance between you.

You press your lips gently against his cheek, and the warmth of his skin against your lips is electric. It’s a simple kiss, but it carries all the unspoken words you couldn’t say out loud. A silent confession. You linger there for just a heartbeat longer, feeling him inhale sharply, as if caught off guard by the intimacy of it. As you pull back, the first snowflakes begin to fall, drifting slowly from the sky. The soft touch of snow melts against your skin, but Sylus holds you close, not letting the moment slip away.

„Now... that’s a present only you could have given me." He gives you the most tender smile. "Thank you."

He looks like he wants to say something else but remains silent. Instead, he pulls you into a deeper embrace, burying his face in your hair as the snow continues to fall softly around you. You’re more than fine with that. No, you’re happy—grateful for this sweet moment.

You realize you’re a step closer to falling for him completely, accepting that the connection between you two is stronger than you ever imagined.

“Merry Christmas, Sylus.”

He smiles, his eyes crinkling with genuine joy.

“Merry Christmas, kitten.”

[star-fandoms]

I FW WITH THIS HEAVYYYYY OP!! I do have my own theories as well that I wanted to add onto this since I agree with yours, so I hope you don't mind!! :3 A lot of this stuff you said but I'm also adding more detail from the new update!!

HEAVY HEAVY SPOILERS!!

For starters, I agree HEAVILY with the idea of reincarnation being a theme in this game!! The creators tumblr has a few posts where Sol talks about his soulmate, and while that isn't a definite need for a series to be a reincarnation series, I've always thought about soulmates being someone you'll meet in EVERY life after you're reincarnated! Also, I feel like Sol remembers his past life, I didn't know about the post where Amnesia was mentioned, but I feel like it def fits into Sol remembering his past life! So I think Sol, MC, AND Crowe were all reincarnated!

Sol, being the executioner, as you said! One, they kinda LOOK familiar, when I saw the executioner I instantly said Sol LMAO! Two the whole bruise on his neck thing you mentioned! Three, in the bad end Sol uses an axe to kill Crowe, axe's are KINDA similar to guillotines, you aren't gonna stab someone with an axe like you would a knife, you use an axe to chop like a guillotine! Also I'm like 95% certain I've seen something from a game or movie where the use an axe shaped blade instead of the typical guillotine blade! Fourth!! I know Sol isn't the ONLY one who kills, but he's a yandere, he EXECUTES his rivals!! The executioner drawing is also seen with an axe(what Sol used to kill Crowe with) and a collar on and Sol ALSO wears a collar!! It also says that the executioners arms are littered with scars and so are Sol's!

I actually see MC being either a commoner, peasant, OR and most likely, a farmer! I think something from Sol, MC's, and Crowe's past life carried on with them until this life!! And I think MC has always been a farmer, like how they are now! Another reason is when you study with Crowe, in Crowe's question, he talks about the queen befriending a commoner(I believe Crowe is supposed to be the "queen"), I very much feel like the whole scenario Crowe brought up is SO much like Crowe's relationship with the MC! The MC being sus of Crowe for being so nice to them in the beginning of their friendship, much like how you can choose to say you'd be wary of the queen for being nice to you if you were a commoner, Crowe being extremely kind and helpful to the MC even though he really has NO reason to, and he even LOOKS like royalty(he's so pretty omfg) and has been stated to be wealthy! During your first outing with Crowe(when he takes you sightseeing!) he asks if you believe in god, if you say no the MC starts to talk about how they would get upset that their father and theirs hard work would get downplayed and seen as a miracle of god, later in the study session, Crowe uses the same scenario for the what happened between the farmer and the queen, the queen using the farmers hard working labor to throw parties.

And finally, Crowe being royalty! OKAY!! So I've already said he looks princely and is wealthy(which as you said Sol hates the rich)! Two in the study scenario with Crowe he talks about how everyone started turning against the queen because of rumors(I already think about how he doesn't get along with his family so they COULD be included with the people who turned against Crowe! Much like how there were other nobles talking bad about the queen!), I think that Crowe has SOME kind of recollection about his past of being the queen, def not to the extent that Sol has but at least SOME!! I think this because of Crowe's friends, Crowe's friend group consists of people who are "poor"(not necessarily meaning poverty in this case, but poor in terms of hard lives and scenarios being thrown at them) and Crowe is helping them and accepting them even though he once again, does not need to. He welcomes them into him life and under his wing. I also have a feeling that something is going to happen where a rumor comes up about Crowe that you can choose to leave him for, and I also wonder if his friends will leave them, they seem really loyal to him though, but in the comments on Crowe's profile the creator says that Crowe's route is a rollercoaster of emotions, and it would literally break my heart to see all/most of Crowe's friends leave him because of a rumor. I'm not too sure of this since not EVERYONE left the queen behind so they could stick by Crowes side, which is also just another reason I think MC was a farmer in their past life too since the people against the queen were seen holding pitchfork/rake. FINALLY!! I think Crowe is the queen because in the bad end, it states that Crowe's head is barely hanging on, number one guillotines cut off heads(furthering pushing Sol to be seen as the executioner!) but also royalty can ALSO be guillotined(such as Marie Antoinette!) so i think it shows that the queen was guillotined and Sol was trying to replicate that with Crowe! Also Crowe literally CRIES if you say you'll be friends with the queen and stay by her side(which i think would be even more heartbreaking for Crowe if you DID end up leaving him!)

Although I can still see Crowe and MC being switched, with MC being a royal in their past life and Crowe coming from nothing! Maybe MC being a farmer in debt was punishment for NOT helping the poor townsfolk! And Crowe also states that if the queen was nice to him, he'd be sussed out as well, maybe showing that HE WAS the commoner(if the queen was giving the commoner gifts, then maybe that's why Crowe ended up wealthy in this life!) If you choose to see the queen as a friend, Crowe says that's very noble of the MC, as expected of them, and then does not further his explanation!

Also just as a one off comment, Sol clearly likes your neck with how often he buries his face in it, but Crowe ALSO buries his face into the crook of your neck at the end of day two!!

cw TKaTB spoilers, theory, mention of guillotine, amnesia memories spoilers

TKATB and its characters belong to @fantasia-kitt !!

TKATB IS RATED +18. MINORS DONT INTERACT

Was about to post a theory about how sol could have been reincarnated to meet pumpkin again in a different timeline bc they werent allowed to be together in their own timeline, the bruise on his neck being an indication of being guillotined AND him giving purple tullips (sign of royalty and elegance) to pumpkin on valentine's, feeling insecure about his lunch (saying it isnt "extravagant" enough for pumpkin) and somehow using pardon me instead of excuse me (he doesnt usually use this type of elegant language i think. could be just me) kinda seems like we were royalty before? I mean, crowe mentioning marie antoinette and the game giving us many options for the question seems sussy to me. Why does MY opinion on the queen matter this much to both crowe and sol since their love meters go crazy with the answers? speaking of historical figures, i cant be the only one thinking sol WAS the "executioner". maybe that could be it. he was "the executioner" and we were a part of the royalty: swimming in money, expensive alcohol and the sweat of the peasants; and sol being one of them. Maybe we didnt even know who he was but him being a delusional yandere, he thought we were inseperable lovers. maybe that was why he was drawing someone in peasant clothes. He was just drawing his past life, could be the day he first saw us or the day he lost us. anything to support my theory? what inspired the game, ofc :D i was stalking fantasia's socials when i saw the game was was inspired by 3 gamea, one being Amnesia Memories (IM A HUGE FAN OF THAT SHIT). if you didnt know, amnesia memories is about a girl waking up with lost memories, trying to remember things. but bc it is an otome, she has a partner in every world she wakes up in. so if she fails to recollect her memories, she ends up in a different universe with a different partner. the relevance between tkatb and amnesia? in amnesia the final LI can also switch between different universes. he loses the mc in a fire and cant live without her. So a god helps him go to a different universe to be with her again. But everytime he goes to a universe, the world either kills the mc or him somehow. Following with pumpkin being royalty and sol not being able to live with us, what if after our death; he went to a different universe where we are classmates (equal parties!!) and now the entire purpose of his existence being, well, being with us forever?

But yknow. I decided not to post it since pretty much everyone already thinks this way! its probably what fantasia WANTS us to think to bamboozle us in the end, right? :3

P.S. not to mention his hatred for the rich. the rich and their stupid rules were the things that stopped him from being with us! but what if hyugo ALSO has switched universes along with him for his own reasons? Could this be the deal between the two, and the reason why hyugo wont allow sol to just die like that?

[olderthannetfic]

I have conflicted feelings about the whole "copeganda" thing. On the one hand of course police procedurals have problems, portray cops of the good guys, etc. show rule breaking to get the "bad guy" as valid. i do see the problem there.

But on the other hand it feels like anti logic to say "you enjoyed x tv show so clearly you condone real world atrocities, you horrible person." And then you see people claiming that sam vimes or ACD Sherlock holmes are copeganda. or that fans watching a show where their fav actor plays a police officer are clearly racist. Or that all little kids who like paw patrol are somehow suspect or corrupted. And I worry we've lost the plot to another x media / depicting x is unredeemable crusade rather than trying to be mindful of the biases and messages in media.

Idk. Thoughts?

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Copaganda is dangerous because it's a staple of CBS prime time et al. It tends to do things like make Internal Affairs evil in all cases. Even when you get the rare IA character who was arguably good for like 6 seasons or something, they'll still go evil for drama late in a show's run. (CSI: Miami, I'm looking at you.)

This is media with a massive reach that almost always reinforces a host of already extremely common social values, so it's going to be extra impactful relative to something like House of the Dragon incest.

We had some discussion here in the past about the measurable real world effect of B99 on people's opinions of the real NYPD. I'm much more willing to entertain people's fears about media when there are measurable effects and the audience size is large. I don't think we should ban cop shows, but there's a reason I like Miami Vice so much: it's noir, so everyone is horrible, including the authorities. While it was still extremely establishment-y, it managed to question the system a lot more than most of these simply by virtue of being a much darker show.

Mystery genre of various types isn't going away. It's a genre that really is copeganda: It's about social order being restored and making the world make sense.

We can be aware of some of the more insidious messages and push back against them though. It's like the torture thing: a lot of media wants to argue about whether the ends justify the means, but that whole complex philosophical can of worms is irrelevant since torture doesn't produce useful results in the first place.

Copaganda tends to not only make cops seem cool but portray villains stereotypically, demonize the important work of investigating cops themselves, justify police brutality, etc. There are a lot of specific problems that do not have to exist in media about cops solving mysteries. These are choices that mainstream US tv is making.

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One thing I will say though... Mystery as a genre, including the worst of US cop shows, has often been far ahead of sff in diversity and even exploring contentious social topics. Geeks tend to think sff is so ahead of its time, but it's often pretty stick-in-the-mud compared to crime stuff. (Cue all the individual examples where it's the opposite way. Haha.)